A Fateful Gift
by Misty Moonbeam
Summary: Harry is given a gift of a book, a book about him, by one of the Fates, and it helps him to determine his own destiny rather than being everybody's pawn.
1. A Fateful Gift

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter is the sole property of JK Rowling**

**Chapter 1: A Fateful Gift**

Harry Potter was a wizard although he didn't know it yet. All he knew was that he hated his life. At that moment he was hiding out in the school library – his cousin Dudley had threatened to beat him up yet again for doing better than him in a maths test. He jumped as the librarian came up to him.

"Is there something I can help you find?"

It was only then that Harry realized that this was not Mrs. Blenkinsop, the usual librarian. Mrs. Blenkinsop was short, wore tweeds, and smelt like dirty socks. The librarian standing in front of Harry was tall, redheaded, very beautiful, and smelt like roses. But only being ten, Harry didn't really notice how beautiful the woman was or that she smelt nice. Instead he was simply afraid of being in trouble.

"Um, no, Miss. I, um, I…"

The woman smiled kindly at Harry. "Perhaps I could help you find a book to read while you're in here?"

"I don't think I'd better do that," Harry said, well aware that Dudley would probably find it and take it and Harry would get into trouble with a capital 'T'.

"Why not?"

Harry stood stock still, not sure of what to say. Then his eyes widened when the woman spoke to him again.

"Is it because you're afraid that Dudley will take the book?"

"How…?"

"I have eyes, Harry Potter," the woman said, and she held out her hand. "I'm Lachesis."

A polite boy, Harry shook the woman's hand. "Um, hello."

"So, Harry," Lachesis said as she placed a gentle hand on Harry's sweater clad shoulder, hiding her dismay at how bony how he felt. "How about if I gave you a book to read that your cousin wouldn't even notice?"

"I don't understand," Harry said in complete confusion.

Lachesis reached up to the top shelf of the bookcase next to which they were standing and withdrew a book. "This is for you."

Harry took the book and looked at the title – 'Mathematics for Beginners'. He then opened it to discover simple maths problems. "But I can already do these sums."

"I know," Lachesis said as she leant against a table that Harry could have sworn hadn't been there a moment ago. "But when you get this book home it won't look the same inside, at least to you anyway."

Harry suddenly felt frightened. "I, er, have to go."

Lachesis suspected that she had unnerved Harry. "I'm not going to hurt you, Harry. I just want you to take the book. You don't have to bring it back."

"But I'll get into trouble if I don't."

"Open it up at the front."

As Harry did, he noticed that there was no page to be stamped with the date he had withdrawn the book. "Whose book is this?"

"It's yours, Harry," Lachesis said as she straightened up. "Now, I'll see you next June in Hogwarts' Library."

"Where?" Harry asked in confusion.

"You'll see," Lachesis said. "Now put the book in your bag."

Still feeling a little scared and not really knowing what else to do, Harry put the book in the battered rucksack he had with him. When he looked up, the woman was gone as was the table. Harry fled.

**Note: I came up with this idea after reading about the Fates in a story by NettieT and so I decided to pinch her idea of including them in the HP universe but I'm putting them to a very different use. NettieT has also kindly agreed to be my sounding board for this.**


	2. The Philosopher's Stone

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter is the sole property of JK Rowling**

**Chapter 2: The Philosopher's Stone**

When he arrived home from school, Harry had little time to think about the book in his bag… he was far too busy helping his aunt to get the dinner ready. After dinner had been eaten, Harry being allowed one fishfinger and half a potato, he washed up, cleaned the sides, and swept the floor. And then, because his aunt, uncle and cousin wanted to watch television in peace, Harry was ordered to go to his bedroom.

However, Harry's bedroom was not really a bedroom. It was actually a cupboard that was situated in the space under the stairs. He had an old camp bed that was shoved inside of it and a couple of threadbare blankets. His pillow was an old sweater of his Uncle Vernon's that was folded up and shoved in an equally ancient pillowcase. Even though he hated the cupboard, it was also the only place Harry actually felt safe in the house in which he lived.

After closing the door behind him, Harry clambered awkwardly on to the camp bed and he then fell asleep quickly as he usually did, the drone of the television helping to lull him into a slumber. When he awoke, the house was silent and in darkness. After lying on the camp bed and listening hard for a few minutes, he snuck out of the cupboard and along the corridor to use the small cloakroom that was situated next to his cupboard. After flushing the toilet and washing his hands, Harry again listened hard and not hearing anything, he headed for the kitchen.

On opening the door to the small pantry that was in the kitchen, Harry helped himself to several handfuls of cornflakes as he knew that these were something his aunt would never miss. He didn't dare have any milk to go with them and so he poured himself a glass of water instead. After he had finished his meager midnight snack, he washed and dried the glass before replacing it in the glass cupboard. Then he headed back to his cupboard.

It was only as he lay down that he remembered the book the strange librarian had given him and, curiosity overcoming his fear of earlier that day, Harry dug inside an old shoe and pulled out a torch that had once belonged to Dudley and switched it on. Harry had worked out that if he occasionally swapped out the batteries from the television remote, he could keep the torch going and his aunt simply thought the batteries on the remote had expired.

Opening the book, Harry expected to see sums inside but, just as the librarian had said, the book was very different.

Harry turned to the front of the book and read the title out loud. "Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone."

He frowned, his nose crinkling at the title. "That's odd."

His nose was to crinkle even more as the book described what could have been his life. Unnerved, Harry slammed the book shut. But after a few moments, curiosity overwhelmed Harry and he opened it again and began reading. He felt faintly queasy when he came to a part when the book said that someone had tried to kill him, or at least someone he thought was him. He was also disconcerted that his aunt and uncle had obviously lied about how his parents had died and Harry wondered why, although he knew there was definitely something strange going on. Again he put the book down.

But Harry's curiosity was once more stronger than his nerves and he reopened the book after a few minutes. Reading on, he felt warm inside when Professor McGonagall, who he guessed must be a teacher of some sort, defended him and tried to make Dumbledore, who Harry decided he didn't like very much, change his mind about Harry's living situation. Harry's tummy felt strange when he came to the part that said he would be famous – he didn't think he wanted to be famous. On the reading next part though, Harry's feelings for McGonagall diminished somewhat when she quickly caved to Dumbledore's decision about leaving Harry with the Dursleys.

Then he shook his head. "It's only a book."

But it was a book that Harry couldn't put down and he went back to his reading, gasping in delight as a motorbike was mentioned. "I've dreamt about a motorbike. Cool!" Then he fell silent when he realized that he was talking to himself.

He wondered who Sirius Black was and what Muggles were but he still read on. He snorted in derision as Dumbledore wished him good luck and he again expressed his feelings out loud. "Good luck? Good luck?"

Then, realizing he had gotten rather loud, he fell silent once more and returned to the book. He had just gotten to the part in the book where he was going to the zoo with Dudley and his friend, something Harry found hard to believe because he never got to go anywhere, when Harry heard the sounds of life above him. He therefore quickly closed the book and switched off his torch, and, even though he didn't mean to do it, because he was tired, Harry fell asleep, only to be woken up by the sound of his aunt hammering on his cupboard door and telling him to get up.

The next night when he opened the book he was disappointed to discover that the pages after his trip to the zoo were blank and Harry began to wonder if the book could possibly be forecasting the future. He was about to discover that it was.


	3. The Snake

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter is the sole property of JK Rowling.**

**Chapter 3: The Snake**

Harry was quiet as the car took them to the zoo to celebrate Dudley's birthday. Just as the book had decreed, nobody had been available to take care of Harry and so he was now on his way to the zoo.

As he got out of the car, his uncle gave him a warning.

"You had better behave, boy. If you don't I promise you'll make the journey home in the boot of the car."

"Yes, Uncle Vernon." It was usually the only thing that Harry ever said to his uncle.

On his way to the zoo, Harry had decided to test the book and he therefore had refrained from mentioning a motorbike during the journey. And now, considering that Vernon had said something different than the book had indicated Vernon would, Harry wondered if he had changed things or, more likely in Harry's opinion, the book wasn't really true.

As they reached the ice-cream vendor that was situated at the gates to the zoo, Dudley moaning he was hungry, Harry was rewarded with a lemon ice lolly when the lady asked him what he wanted, and Harry's faith in the veracity of the books was renewed. Later in the day, Harry's conviction about the book's genuineness grew even more when, as the book had said, Harry was allowed to finish off Dudley's Knickerbocker glory when Dudley had whined about the size of it.

Now the moment Harry had been waiting for was upon them and they had finally reached the reptile house. However, unlike in the book, Harry waited until everyone else with him had wandered off to a different section before he stepped over to the tank that contained a Brazilian Boa Constrictor.

Harry looked around him first before saying, "Hello, can you understand me?"

The snake slithered up to the glass and gave what could only be a nod of its head.

Harry took a step backward in shock. The book was right – snakes could understand human speech. Suddenly he heard his aunt screeching his name and he turned back to the snake. "Sorry, I have to go."

As he ran off Harry missed the snake speaking back to him.

"Goodbye, snake speaker."

Later that night, Harry opened the book at the section that had been covered that day. He was astonished and excited to see that it was now a little different and any mention of a motorbike or of Dudley ending up inside the snake tank had now disappeared.

As he lay back in his bed, an excited Harry whispered, "I can change things. I can really change things." And as he closed his eyes, he prayed that the book would update itself.

However when the next night rolled around, Harry discovered that the book had printed nothing more and he was more than a little disappointed. And so, every day after that he made a point of going into the library, looking for Lachesis, but he never found her. He wondered if she really would turn up at Hogwarts library, although he had no idea what Hogwarts was or where its library might be.

Eventually the summer arrived and Harry was overjoyed to discover yet another chapter had turned up in the book and he quickly devoured it, only to be left both excited and upset.

The exciting part was finding out that Hogwarts was a school, a magical school, and that he, Harry Potter, was a wizard, just like his parents had been.

The upsetting part was discovering that his aunt and uncle had known about Harry and his heritage. It certainly explained the comments made by his uncle in the book about 'their lot'.

Yawning, Harry put down the book and he decided he'd read it again over the next few nights, wanting to be prepared for what was going to happen. And so, when the first letter arrived from Hogwarts, instead of blundering along and revealing the letter to his relatives, Harry shoved it inside his cupboard before returning to the kitchen with the remainder of the post for his relatives. He knew he could have followed the book and he'd have ended up with Dudley's second bedroom, but as the book said, Harry would rather have had the letter than the bedroom.

It was a long day for Harry and he had never been so glad to be able to retire to his cupboard. His wait, however, was still not over, since his relatives were watching television as usual. By eleven though, they had gone to bed and, switching on his torch, Harry ripped open the letter. He was more than a little excited to discover it was exactly the same as the book had said and Harry shoved it under his pillow. He had some planning to do.

* * *

A few days later when she got up, Petunia didn't notice anything amiss and she banged on Harry's door as usual. However, she let out a screech as she stepped on a puddle of clear washing-up liquid and went skidding across the floor.

Harry was trembling as he opened the door to his cupboard. His trembling increased when he saw that his aunt was lying on the floor, blood pooling around her head where she had hit it on the cupboard. Turning and running up the stairs, he hammered on his uncle's door. "Uncle Vernon, Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia's hurt herself."

Vernon almost knocked Harry out pushing past him to get downstairs to check on his wife. He was back upstairs within minutes. "Get downstairs and sit with your aunt. And get dressed!"

Half an hour later, Harry was locked out of the house and told not to come back until dinnertime. Vernon then helped his wife into the car, a weeping Dudley accompanying them as they set off for the hospital.

Harry, however, set off for the bus stop and had to run as the number 4 arrived. "How much to go to the train station, please?"

"Ten pence," the man said.

Harry placed the requisite amount of money in the receptacle and sat down, arriving at the train station after twenty minutes. He just hoped he had enough money to get him to London. Nervously sidling up to the counter when it was his turn he asked about prices. "How much to go to, um, London?"

"Where in London?" A bored voice came back.

Harry realized that the book hadn't said where in London he had to go to. Not about to give up though, he made a guess. "Um, the hospital."

"Trains don't go there," the woman said, as she noticed how small and young Harry looked. "Where are your parents?"

Harry promptly lied. "My mum had an accident this morning and she's gone to the hospital. Dad couldn't wait for me and so I told him I'd follow."

"Do you know what hospital?"

Harry shook his head. "I just know it's a big one."

"I think that you should maybe go home and wait," the woman suggested. "Or I could phone someone to come and meet you."

"I can phone my brother who lives in London," Harry said, lying again. "He'll tell me."

Harry slowly walked off towards the bright red phone box that stood just outside of the entrance to the station and slipped inside, aware that the woman was watching him. As he did, he heard an announcement that the train to King's Cross Station would be delayed by ten minutes. After pretending to make a phone call, he returned to the woman at the counter. "My brother said I've got to go King's Cross Station and he'll meet me there."

Although she wasn't entirely sure she believed Harry's story, the woman had better things to do than to poke around in someone else's business and so she issued a single ticket. "That will be two pounds and eighteen pence."

Harry pulled out four fifty pence pieces and two tens from his pocket. "Here you are." He knew that he had about sixty pence left.

Harry rather enjoyed the trip into London and soon he was wandering the streets wondering how on earth he was going to find the pub the book had mentioned. All he knew was that it was next to a record store and he thought a book store, but he couldn't remember. Suddenly he gave a yell, startling the couple walking past him. There, as if by magic, was a record store and next to it, was a dingy looking pub named the Leaky Cauldron. Harry could also see a big book store. With a somewhat shaking hand, he pulled his hat over his head – he didn't want to be recognized – and he opened the door to the pub.

As he did, he coughed at the smoky atmosphere and he felt rather intimidated by the strangely dressed people. Tugging out his book, he quickly scanned it and headed for the bar. "Hello."

The barkeep looked down at Harry. "Hello."

"Can you help me please?" Harry asked. "I need to get into Diagon Alley but I don't know how."

"First time?" the barkeep asked.

Harry nodded. "Yeah."

"I'll take you." Tom then led the way to the alley behind the pub and, just as Hagrid had done in the book, he tapped the bricks and the magical entrance opened as the bricks parted.

"Thank you, Sir," Harry said politely.

"Name's Tom and you're welcome, young man."

"Harry," Harry said, supplying him with just his first name.

"It was a pleasure to meet you, Harry," Tom said and he turned and headed back the way he had come while Harry stepped into his brave new world.


	4. Diagon Alley

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter is the sole property of JK Rowling/OCs are my property**

**Chapter 4: Diagon Alley **

As Harry stepped through the portal and took his first look at the Alley, he had to struggle to control his shock and awe at the sight in front of him. The book had definitely not prepared him for what lay ahead - never before had he seen such vivid colors, strangely dressed people or unusual stores, Eeylops Owl Emporium and Ollivanders to name just a few.

Aware of the place he had to find, Harry slowly strolled up the street, dawdling and able to take in the vivid sights as there was nobody to chivvy him along. Soon though he reached the pristine white building that he knew contained goblins, goblins that had his money.

Pushing his shoulders back, Harry headed towards the building, a goblin looking as though it was standing guard positioned on the steps to the bank, just as it had been in the book. Giving it a polite smile as it bowed as he walked by, Harry stepped into the bank. He had already read the warning contained in the book about stealing from Gringotts more than once and he felt a little nervous that what he was about to do might be conceived as being wrong. However, it was his money and he would need it if he was going to go to school.

Locating a teller who was free, Harry nervously headed up to him. "Hello."

"Key, please."

"I don't have one."

"Name."

"Harry James Potter," Harry said, thinking that it might be helpful to give all of his names.

Up until then the goblin hadn't even bothered to look up. Now it did as it gave instructions. "Second door on the left."

Harry knew only too well that the book had not mentioned anything about doors, and he was more than a little nervous as he headed in the direction the goblin had instructed. Knocking on the door that was second on the left, which was a big wooden door with a brass handle, Harry was bidden to enter.

Upon doing so, he was surprised to see a man and not a goblin sitting at the desk. "Um, the goblin told me to come here."

The man smiled and pointed at a chair. "Then come in. How can I help you?"

"I want to take out some money but I don't have a key," Harry said as he perched on the edge of leather clad chair which appeared to have arms carved out of gold.

"Name."

"Harry James Potter."

The man's eyebrows rose almost into his hairline. "Really?"

"Um, yeah," Harry said hesitantly as the man came around the desk.

"I'm Hector Cashton," the man said as he reached down to shake Harry's hand. "I'm so pleased to meet you, Mr. Potter, so pleased!"

"It's Harry, Mr. Cashton," Harry said, understanding a little of how the Harry in the book must have felt upon being recognized in the Leaky Cauldron.

However, unlike the people in the book, Hector obviously realized he was making Harry uncomfortable as he immediately backed off. "Well then, Harry, let's see what we can do about getting you some money."

Harry watched as Hector opened up a long sliding drawer and a file was extracted from it, a very thick file. "Is that mine?"

"It is," Hector said, placing it on the table and tapping it with his wand.

This was the first magic that Harry had witnessed apart from Tom's opening up the portal to Diagon Alley, and he was thoroughly enthralled when the file flew open and papers shot up into the air before several separated themselves from the paper stream and landed on the desk. The remaining papers shot back towards the file before it closed itself.

Hector then seated himself to review the papers. "It says here that your godfather was supposed to be taking care of your key. Oh…"

"What's wrong?" Harry asked worriedly at the concerned look.

"Your godfather can't be contacted."

"Why not?"

Hector struggled to find an answer, in the end blurting out the truth. "Because he's in Azkaban."

Harry looked blankly at Hector – the book had not mentioned Azkaban, or at least he didn't think it had. "What's Azkaban?"

"You don't know?"

Harry shook his head. "No, Sir."

"It's a prison, Harry," Hector said gravely.

Harry decided that his godfather couldn't be a very nice person if he was in prison but he still wondered what the mysterious godfather had done. "Why is he in prison?"

"Because he was in league with You-Know-Who."

Having read the chapter about the Keeper of the Keys four times, since Harry had suspected it would vanish if he kept on his divergent path, Harry knew exactly who You-Know-Who was and that if his godfather had been in league with him, he most definitely wasn't good. "You mean he was on the Dark Side?"

"Yes," Hector said, shivering. "And it looks…"

A knock at the door interrupted them and Harry was a little bemused by the sight of the man who entered when Hector called out 'come in'. Harry had seen some strangely dressed wizards on his way through Diagon Alley but this man made them look dowdy; he had on a bright orange robe and it had suns of even brighter yellow rising up from the hem on the right and setting on the left after make their way up the robe, across the man's chest and back down again.

Hector stood up and bowed his head slightly. "Headmaster Dumbledore."

Harry's hackles went up at the mention of the name and unlike Hector, he didn't bother greeting the strange looking man.

Dumbledore, however, greeted Harry. "Teller Cashton, Harry."

Harry now had no choice but to greet Dumbledore. "Hello."

Dumbledore could see that Harry was far from enamored with him, and he turned his attention to Hector. "I received notice that someone had heard that Harry was in Gringotts and I thought I should come by to see if I could be of assistance."

Hector glanced back at Harry's file. "You're not listed as being a guardian."

"But I do hold Harry's key," Dumbledore informed Hector, producing it seemingly out of thin air.

"Then we can make a withdrawal for him," Hector said to Dumbledore before turning to Harry. "You should know that you can only make a withdrawal from your trust fund vault up until you turn seventeen."

"Okay," Harry said, not having a problem with this.

"Then I'll ask Griphook to accompany you to the vault."

Harry said nothing to Dumbledore during the ride down to his vault which, just like his book counterpart, he loved immensely. He decided he would have loved it more if Dumbledore hadn't been sitting behind him.

Dumbledore said nothing to Harry until they arrived at the vault, where he explained about the different coins, unaware that Harry already knew what they were from his book. On arriving back upstairs, Harry reluctantly followed Dumbledore out into the lobby of the bank and out of the doors, only to be mobbed as soon as he stepped foot back in Diagon Alley.

A woman reached out and patted his cheek. "Doris Crockford, Mr. Potter, can't believe I'm meeting you at last."

Harry's eyes widened as this was the woman who had accosted book Harry in the Leaky Cauldron. His eyes were to widen more as two more people were to repeat what had been written. He was soon rescued though by Dumbledore.

"I'm afraid Harry has school shopping to do, so if you'll excuse us."

Harry was led off and just like in the book, he was taken into Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. However, unlike the book, Dumbledore remained by his side, giving instructions to a young girl, who kept shooting Harry surreptitious glances from under her rather long dark lashes. Harry might have been spared meeting the obnoxious drawling boy from the book but he decided he would have preferred him to the giggling girl who was currently pinning up robes for him. He was therefore thankful when the ordeal was over.

He was then led from shop to shop picking up what he needed until finally they reached the shop that Harry had been most anxious to visit, the wand store.

Dumbledore noted that the sullen look had dropped away from the boy's face as they entered the store. "Garrick?"

"Albus," came the response from the strange moon-eyed man who had appeared from behind a stack of wands. "I see you've brought Mr. Potter in to buy his first wand."

Harry almost switched off as Ollivander droned on about his parents' wands, something of which Harry was already aware, until he realized that he was being measured and then the man was handing him a wand to try. Harry had no idea what holly looked like and so he picked the wand up and swished it around. He had barely done more than that when the wand was pulled out of his hand and a fresh one had taken its place.

After eight wands, Dumbledore made a suggestion. "Perhaps the holly and phoenix feather wand."

Ollivander glanced at Harry's forehead before saying, "Perhaps you might be right." He then headed into the back of his shop before returning with a box which he opened and from inside he took out a wand, which he presented to Harry.

The moment Harry touched the wand he felt as though he had come home and after a quick swish, red and gold sparks flew out of the wand.

Ollivander and Dumbledore shared a meaningful glance before Ollivander turned to Harry. "That will be seven Galleons."

After Harry had paid, Dumbledore led the way out. "I think it's time we had a little talk before we return home, Harry."

Harry glanced at the Owl Emporium and he decided that since Hagrid had not been there to buy him an owl, he would purchase one for himself. "I'd like to buy an owl first."

"Of course," Dumbledore said and he led the way to the store, starting to make a suggestion as they went inside. "Perhaps…"

Harry interrupted him and pointed towards a snowy white owl. "I want that one."

The owner smiled. "He's…"

Again Harry interrupted. "I'd rather have a girl owl."

"Then if it's a snowy owl you're after, we have one right here," the owner said, leading Harry to the back of the store. "She's a bit temperamental though."

The owl locked eyes with Harry and he knew that this was going to be his owl. "I'll take her."

After paying for her and a cage, Harry headed out of the store.


	5. The Book Vanishes

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter is the sole property of JK Rowling.**

**Chapter 5: The Book Vanishes**

Harry followed Dumbledore into the Leaky Cauldron where he was greeted by Tom.

"Hello again, Harry, did you find what you wanted?"

"I did, thank you," Harry said, smiling brightly at the toothless barkeep.

Dumbledore noted the difference in Harry's attitude towards the innkeeper compared to his own reception and, after purchasing butterbeers for them both, he led Harry to sit down at a table. "I suspect, Harry, that you don't like me very much. Why is that?"

Harry mutely shrugged and took a tentative taste of the butterbeer.

Dumbledore tried a different tack. "Where are your relatives?"

"At the hospital."

Dumbledore noted that Harry had reddened immensely. "You look uncomfortable, Harry."

"I don't want to talk about it." Harry then suddenly experienced a strange sensation, almost like being touched by a spider's web, before the feeling subsided.

Dumbledore gave a very deep frown. "Did you have something to do with your aunt's accident?"

Harry's eyes widened in shock that Dumbledore somehow knew about his aunt's accident, before he reluctantly nodded and said, "Yes."

"What happened?"

"I left liquid on the floor – I knew my aunt would probably slip on it."

This concerned Dumbledore a great deal – he could still remember interviewing a boy who had also had something of a penchant for hurting others deliberately. "And was she badly hurt?"

Once more Harry reluctantly nodded. "Yes, but I just thought she'd sprain her ankle or something. Not that she'd hit her head."

This confession made Dumbledore feel somewhat happier, but not much. "Why didn't you simply ask your aunt to bring you here?"

"Because she hates me! And she hated my parents as well!"

Dumbledore was surprised by the vitriol in Harry's voice. "I'm sure she's never said that to you."

"No, but I know she does."

"I doubt that very much," Dumbledore said, convinced it was simply Harry's dislike of his aunt that was making him believe she felt the same way, and he rose up to his feet. "And I think we should return you home. I expect she'll be worried about you."

"She won't care."

"I'm quite sure you're mistaken, Harry."

"No, I'm not." Harry's tone was quite firm, which was rather out of the ordinary for him.

With people beginning to look, Dumbledore decided to let the issue sit until he had returned Harry back to Privet Drive. "Let's just take this one step at a time."

Harry was led out of the pub and he blinked rapidly as he came out on the Muggle side, sunlight blinding him after the darkness of the pub. "I forgot. I meant to get to some Muggle money to get home."

"Don't worry about that," Dumbledore said and he put his arm out.

Harry stepped back in alarm when a triple-decker purple bus appeared from out of nowhere. "A bus?"

"It's a form of transportation for stranded witches and wizards," Dumbledore said in explanation. "Let's get on. I'll deal with paying the fare. And, Harry, a word of warning, hold on tight!"

Harry could see why Dumbledore had offered the warning as he almost went flying backwards as the bus shot off from a standing start to full speed in the blink of an eye.

And in the blink of an eye he was home again, standing on the pavement outside of No.4 Privet Drive. He looked darkly at the house. "I wish I didn't have to live here… with them!"

Again Dumbledore experienced a moment of concern at the grim face Harry was sporting. "I'm afraid you do. They're your only living relatives."

"Don't I have a godmother?" Harry asked as he literally moved at a snail's pace toward the front door. "I mean I've got a godfather."

"You know about Sirius Black?"

Harry gawped at Dumbledore, as he recalled reading about Black in chapter 1 of the book. "He's my godfather?"

"You didn't know his name until now?"

"No, I just knew I had a godfather. Mr. Cashton told me that he went to the Dark Side."

Dumbledore slowly and sadly nodded his head. "He did. And the answer to your question about your godmother is that you don't have one."

Harry muttered something Dumbledore didn't catch under his breath and he decided to ignore Harry's grumbling and knocked on the door. It was answered by Dudley.

"Dad, there's a weirdo at the door and Potter and an owl."

Vernon came barreling up to the front door, his mouth opening ready to lambast his nephew, only for it to close again at the sight of Dumbledore. "Your kind isn't welcome here."

"I'm delivering your nephew and I need to speak to you about him," Dumbledore said firmly, "or I could stand on this doorstep and conduct the conversation here."

Vernon stood back to let Dumbledore enter. "I suppose you'd better come in. But keep it down, Pet is sleeping."

As Harry stepped in behind Dumbledore, Vernon mouthed, "You're in so much trouble," and Harry found himself shrinking back against the wall.

"Perhaps a cup of tea." Dumbledore began to play mother, not waiting for Vernon to enter the sitting room where Dudley was cowering in the corner, having just witnessed an entire tea set appear out of nowhere. "Harry, would you care for a cup?"

Harry shook his head and stood in the doorway, not daring to step foot into the sitting room until bidden to do so.

Vernon growled angrily at the sight of Dumbledore making himself comfortable in Vernon's favorite chair. "Just who do you think you are?"

"I'm Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts, the school where Harry…"

Vernon paled visibly before he went red. "We swore when we took him in that we would put a stop to that rubbish…"

Harry went just as pale as he recognized Vernon's speech from the chapter on the Keeper of the Keys, and without thinking he protested, "But magic isn't rubbish."

Vernon turned on Harry. "I suggest you shut up, boy. You're in enough trouble as it is; you were derelict in your cleaning duties and it's your fault that Petunia is lying upstairs with a cast on her leg."

"I'm sorry, Uncle Vernon," Harry said in a meek voice.

Dumbledore's voice, however, was anything other than meek. "Harry has cleaning duties?"

"We put a roof over his head and it's not too much to ask he does a little housework in return," Vernon announced in an imperious voice.

"I suppose not," Dumbledore agreed, before taking a large slurp of tea, slopping some into the teacup before tilting that up and drinking from it just as noisily.

It was a good thing Petunia was in bed. She would have had a conniption at the manner in which Dumbledore was partaking of his tea, although Harry suspected he was doing it on purpose.

It was certainly riling Vernon.

"I think it's time you left."

"Willingly but not before you confirm that you will drop Harry at King's Cross Station…"

Vernon interrupted as a very important fact suddenly occurred to him. "How did he even know about Hogwarts? Did you come here when we were out?"

"No, my Deputy Head sent Harry a letter."

"A letter?"

As Vernon turned his angry little eyes on Harry, Harry gulped and reached into his pocket, before holding out the somewhat crumpled parchment envelope. "It came a while ago."

Spotting something unusual on the envelope, Dumbledore flicked his wand and the letter shot across the room and into his hand. "The Cupboard under the Stairs?"

Harry went red. "It's my bedroom."

Dumbledore now began to finally believe that Harry's relatives might not actually like Harry after all. "Show me!"

Harry pointed to the door to the cupboard, and Dumbledore flicked his wand at the door to reveal the poor excuse for a bedroom.

Dumbledore, who almost seemed to have grown in stature and to be surrounded by an air current, his hair lifting gently in a breeze, turned to face Vernon, his face full of anger. "He's your nephew and you put him in a cupboard?"

The house almost seemed to tremble at the anger displayed by Dumbledore and Vernon's knees were doing the same, and then like all cowards he folded when faced by aggression coming from someone more powerful than him. He began to mumble out an excuse. "He's never really needed much room and we were going to move him upstairs soon, but I suppose we could do it sooner."

Dumbledore visibly calmed down. "That would be acceptable. And you will also bring Harry to King's Cross Station on 1st September. I will send him his train ticket." He decided to add a threat, something he believed that Vernon would understand only too well. "And if you don't deliver Harry, your wife's cast will become permanent. Do I make myself clear?"

"Course, of course."

Dumbledore stepped closer to the cupboard, shaking his head in dismay before addressing Harry. "Please go upstairs and take your things with you. I'll bring up your trunk shortly."

Harry did as he was bidden, Dumbledore joining him a few minutes later.

"There are a lot of toys in here."

"It's Dudley's room for when he's bust stuff," Harry explained. "Or for books he doesn't want to read."

"Even so I expect you will be more comfortable in here. I'll see you on 1st September."

Harry was left standing in the middle of Dudley's room and the moment the front door closed behind him, he could hear Dudley whining about having to give up his bedroom and Vernon telling him to shut up. Then heavy footsteps came up the stairs and the door to the bedroom opened to reveal Vernon.

"You will keep this room clean and you will tell no-one about that crackpot old fool and that ridiculous school. Do I make myself clear, boy?"

"Yes, Uncle Vernon."

"Don't just stand there. Get unpacked and make that bed."

Vernon then stomped off up the corridor, ostensibly to talk to his wife.

Harry looked at the small twin bed that sat in one corner. It was rather old but it definitely looked in better shape than his cot under the stairs. Doing as Vernon said, Harry headed out on to the landing and opened up the airing cupboard, pulling out some old sheets of Dudley's to put on the bed. He knew he'd be in trouble if he used anything else.

It was only as he finished tidying up the room and placing his school books tidily on an old dresser that had seen better days that Harry remembered the Book – he'd started to think of it as 'the Book' rather than 'the book' during his trip through Diagon Alley. He quickly headed downstairs and into the cupboard, picking up the old tin soldiers he usually played with before looking under the cot for the Book. It wasn't there.

Harry wondered if maybe he'd hidden it behind the cleaning products and forgotten, but after checking he discovered he hadn't. In fact a search of the entire cupboard, conducted once his relatives were all sound asleep, turned up nothing. The book had gone and Harry knew of only one person who could have or would have taken it: Dumbledore!

Dumbledore was in fact the perpetrator and at that moment, despite the late hour, he was trying in vain to change the Book from a book of sums to whatever he had seen in Harry's mind. He was failing miserably.

* * *

Sitting in the Garden of Knowledge, a place in Lachesis' realm, she watched in fury through the Font of Truth as Dumbledore tried again and again to access the Book. "How dare he take the Book! It belongs to Harry."

"It doesn't really belong to either of them," Clotho, Lachesis' sister, commented. "You stole it from another world and gave it to Harry."

"I thought it was time somebody evened out the odds," Lachesis stated in her defense. "And I was fed up of the boy always being mistreated."

"You should have stepped in earlier then."

"And done what?"

"Raised the boy if you were that concerned."

"I don't have time."

"Then cease your complaining!"

Lachesis scowled before vanishing and returning once more, this time with another book in her hand. "Dumbledore won't ever figure out how to get into the Book and I know he won't give it back, so Harry is going to have a new copy of it."

"And when do you propose to give it to him?" Clotho asked.

"Now."

Clotho gave a tinkling and derision filled laugh. "You know as well as I that you've been granted one trip per year to visit Harry Potter. You can't go again."

"No, but I know someone who can help me." Lachesis closed her eyes and moments in a bright flash of flame, a phoenix appeared. "Hello, Fawkes."

Fawkes bumped his head gently against Lachesis' hand as Clotho shot to her feet.

"That's cheating."

"So is reading somebody's mind to find out information!"

"He was concerned about the boy's behavior and, in my opinion, sister, quite rightly so."

"Harry didn't mean to hurt his aunt so badly."

"Well, if you ask me, he's going to turn out to be a bad one."

"Well, I didn't ask you and I disagree," Lachesis barked angrily, only forcing herself to calm down as Fawkes let out an almighty trill. "I'm sorry, Fawkes." She held out the new copy of the Book. "Please would you take this to Harry Potter for me? If you do I will not seek retribution against your master for taking the original."

Moments later both the new book and Fawkes vanished in flash of flame.

Clotho had disapproval written all over her from the stiffness of her stance to her pursed lips. "This isn't right, Lachesis."

"I don't care and Mother has given her approval," Lachesis countered as she stepped over to the Font.

"And what have you disguised the blasted thing as this time?"

"Hogwarts: A History."

Harry noticed his new acquisition the next morning but didn't pay it any heed. Dumbledore had recommended several books to him that Harry had felt obliged to buy, one of which had been Hogwarts: A History, and Harry therefore scowled at in disgust and shoved it to the bottom of his trunk.

He wouldn't take it out until the night he arrived at Hogwarts…


	6. The Hogwarts Express

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter is the sole property of JK Rowling**

**Chapter 6: The Hogwarts Express**

Harry sidled up to his uncle's side of the table. "Uncle Vernon?"

"What?"

"About tomorrow…"

"You'll get your lift. What time does the train leave?"

"Eleven o'clock."

The next day Vernon was as good as his word and he duly chauffeured Harry to the station, neither Petunia nor Dudley saying anything to Harry during the journey, which had been pretty much par for the course ever since Dumbledore's visit.

Vernon, however, went as far as dumping Harry's trunk and bird cage on to a cart for him, wanting to ensure that Harry definitely left. "So where does this train leave from?"

"I have to get to platform nine and three-quarters."

Vernon wished he had time to walk down to the platforms to show Harry that no such platform existed. However, time was running short and Petunia's appointment to have her cast removed was imminent, and so Vernon instead gave Harry a very nasty smirk. "Good luck with that. I'm quite sure the last time I was here there were platforms nine and ten, but no platform nine and three-quarters. See you next term."

Harry was then left standing in the middle of the station as Vernon climbed back into his car, and, with barely a backward glance, he drove off. Harry was far from bothered. He had already worked out that somehow the entrance must be magically hidden, although he did wish that Dumbledore had told him how to get in when he had sent him his ticket – something that had not gone down well with Petunia when the owl delivering the ticket had deliberately, or so it seemed to Harry, left a large deposit on Vernon's car before flying off.

Harry's thoughts were refocused in the next moment by a family of three, a blonde man and woman and their equally blonde son, entering the station close by to where he was standing. What had caught Harry's attention, however, was not their blonde hair but the boy's complaints, reminding Harry a little of Dudley.

"I don't see why there isn't a floo entrance," the boy moaned bitterly. "Having to walk through all these Muggles is disgusting."

"Quite," the father drawled. "But keep your opinions to yourself, Draco. It doesn't become a Malfoy to be seen to be whinging."

"Yes, Father."

Guessing they had to be a wizarding family, Harry decided to follow them, almost running into them in his hurry to keep up, something that the blonde boy noticed.

"Watch where you're going."

"I'm sorry."

Draco noticed Harry's rather ordinary Muggle clothing and said, "I bet you're a Mud…"

"Draco!" the boy's father warned before giving Harry a brief derogatory glance and walking off.

The boy then stuck his nose in the air and followed his father, his mother having already walked away.

Harry knew in that moment he was never going to be friends with a boy like that. The boy and his parents had, however, provided Harry with the answer as to how to enter the portal to the magical world and when Harry stepped through it, he was absolutely astonished by the sight of the bright red steam engine standing at platform nine and three-quarters.

He had half imagined that the train might have had three levels or no wheels or something weirdly magical, just like the Knight Bus. However, this train looked just like a normal steam train – steam was in fact coming from the smoke stack and a conductor was smiling at people as they headed for the train.

Having stopped in the entryway of the portal, it was no surprise that a dark-haired boy ran into the back of Harry. The boy, however, was the first to apologize.

"I'm sorry."

"It's my fault. I was a little surprised by the train. I thought it would have wings or something."

"First time?"

Harry nodded.

"Everybody imagines that the train will be something bizarre if they haven't seen it before but it's just a train." The boy then politely held out his hand. "I forgot my manners. I'm Cedric Diggory."

"Harry Potter."

Cedric's face momentarily betrayed his shock but he recovered quickly and aware that Harry was probably alone because he had no parents, he made him an offer. "Would you like me to help you on to the train?"

"Thanks."

After finding an empty carriage, between them Cedric and Harry maneuvered Harry's trunk into the carriage and under the seat. Harry turned to Cedric, a somewhat shy smile on his face. "Thanks again."

"Anytime, Harry."

Cedric then left Harry to go in search of his friends and Harry decided that in contrast to Draco Malfoy, Cedric seemed by far and away the nicer of the two.

With his trunk now stowed safely away and Hedwig - Harry had named his owl from one of the books he had bought in Diagon Alley - sleeping with her head under her wing, Harry wondered what to do. He therefore rummaged through an old book bag of Dudley's and pulled out the first book he touched - Hogwarts, a History. About to open it, Harry had a change of heart and decided that reading the book could wait until the train was underway, and he decided instead to watch what was going on outside.

Tugging down the window, he leaned out of it, silently observing the various families arriving. He felt rather sad that he had effectively had no-one, especially when he saw mothers in tears hugging their children, and Harry felt a small pang of loss.

He cheered up though at the sight of a family bustling in; it was a large family and every one of them were redheads. He grinned at the rather vivid picture the family made, although the only girl looked somewhat downhearted. Harry could hear her mother telling her to cheer up and that she would be going to Hogwarts next year, and Harry felt sorry for her until her voice drifted over to him.

"Do you think Harry Potter is on the train, Mum?"

"He's supposed to be," a redhead, who appeared to be a twin, commented. "Do you think we should go look?"

"No!" the boys' mother responded. "And if he is on the train, you're to leave him alone."

"Please…"

The mother interrupted the beginning of her daughter's plea. "Ginny, you're not getting on the train to look for Harry Potter." She then turned her attention to her sons. "And you lot had better get on before the train goes without you."

Harry giggled to himself when the twins teased what had to be their older brother, who was loudly announcing he was a prefect, before the group disappeared from sight and on to the train, leaving just the girl, Ginny, and her mother on the platform. Ginny began to cry as the whistle went and the train began to move. Harry's giggles turned into a guffaw when he heard a voice promising to send a toilet seat and the mother rebuking her son. Then the train finally gathered momentum, and the platform and crying girl were left behind.

Harry had barely settled into his seat and had been about to open his book when the door slid open and one of the redheads appeared in the doorway.

"Anyone sitting there? Everywhere else is full."

Harry invited the boy in and helped him to store his trunk. He then decided to get the introductions out of the way.

"I'm Harry Potter."

The boy gawped and glanced at Harry's forehead before introducing himself. "Ron, Ron Weasley."

As he sat down, Harry caught Ron staring at his forehead and he gave a sigh and lifted his hair to reveal his scar, as he guessed this was what the boy was trying to see. "It's just a scar."

Ron was about to make a comment about it when he saw how annoyed Harry was looking. Usually an obtuse boy, this time Ron had the good sense to keep his mouth shut.

Harry relaxed into his seat again and, leaving the book on the seat beside him to read later, he brought up Ron's family before Ron could bring up his. "I saw you on the platform when I was on the train. Was that all your family?"

Distracted, Ron began to tell Harry all about his family, grimacing when he reached Percy. He then went further and told Harry about his two older brothers and how brilliant they were and that Ron would have to live up to them. He finished his speech by talking about his hopes for school. "I just hope I get into Gryffindor. I'd never be able to show my face at home if I went into somewhere like Slytherin."

"Slytherin?" Harry asked - although he had read about the house and Hagrid's description of it, he wanted to see what Ron thought of the house.

"It's the worst house there is," Ron said emphatically. "All the wizards and witches who turned evil have been in that house."

Even though he had already seen this information in the Book before it had vanished, Harry could see Ron was waiting for an answer. "I don't think I want to be in Slytherin then."

"Too right."

Harry then recalled Cedric. "I did meet a really nice boy when I arrived, Cedric Diggory, he was wearing a yellow and black tie – is that his house tie?"

"It's Hufflepuff's colors," Ron said, before pulling a face. "It's where the duffers go. You don't want to end up there!"

Having already met Cedric, Harry felt a little differently about those in the house of Hufflepuff, but he kept his thoughts to himself and asked about one of the other houses. "And what about Gryffindor?"

"It's the best house," Ron announced, unknowingly puffing out his chest. "All my family has been in Gryffindor."

Harry recalled reading that there were four houses, although he didn't know the name of the final house. "Aren't there four houses?"

Ron nodded. "Yeah. The last house is Ravenclaw - it's where the know-it-alls end up."

"You mean the clever students?" Harry asked, wanting to make sure he had understood Ron's interpretation of Ravenclaw properly.

"Yeah."

"I'm not very clever," Harry said, his brow furrowing. "So I suppose I'll end up in Hufflepuff or Gryffindor."

Harry, however, was to be offered a very different choice when he finally sat down on the stool and placed the Sorting Hat on his head.


	7. The Sorting and Beyond

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter is the sole property of JK Rowling/ OCs are mine or nicked from Nettie!**

**Chapter 7: The Sorting and Beyond**

The journey continued uneventfully except for three visits: the first by a woman known as the trolley witch who was selling various magical foods, of which Harry partook and shared with a grateful Ron, who had with him squashed corn beef sandwiches he didn't really like; the second visit was from a girl named Hermione Granger, who seemed to be something of a know-it-all and both boys agreed that she'd probably go into Ravenclaw - they were both going to be wrong; and the final visit was from Draco Malfoy, the blonde boy Harry had had the minor altercation with at King's Cross Station. Harry had stuck to the conclusion he had drawn at the Station – this was a boy he never wanted to be friends and he had rebuffed him in favor of Ron.

After that the journey continued uninterrupted until they arrived at Hogsmeade. After following the instructions to leave his luggage where it was, Harry left the train to see a huge man, who he guessed from his size had to be Hagrid, unless of course Hagrid had any brothers that massive.

Hagrid was calling for the first years to follow him, which Harry and Ron did, Ron almost mesmerized by Hagrid's size. After a short boat ride later, the beautiful visage of Hogwarts appeared on the horizon and Harry and those in the boat with him, the know-it-all girl, a plump boy and Ron were all shuffled into a sort of waiting room before eventually entering the Great Hall where they would be sorted.

Thanks to the twins, Ron was terrified that something bad would have to happen to him to be sorted; Harry was quite sure that that couldn't be the case otherwise no-one would ever attend Hogwarts. Even so, Harry was still nervous and glad when his name was eventually called, even though everyone was looking at him.

Slipping onto the stool and pulling the Sorting Hat, the Hat which decided what House you would be placed in, onto his head, Harry waited anxiously for something to happen. The something was a disembodied voice in his head.

"Well, well, Harry Potter, it isn't going to take me long to decide on your house. SLY…"

"No!" Harry screamed his response out loud, not realizing he had done so as he did. He only did as all eyes turned to him, particularly the dark eyes of a black haired teacher who was wearing a most sour look.

"And why not?" the Hat asked. "You have all the qualities that that house deems sought-after: a desire to make something of yourself; you're sneaky …"

"I am not sneaky," Harry thought, hoping the Hat could hear him.

"Yes, I can hear you and I have to disagree. You injured your aunt deliberately so that you could make good your escape…"

"You can read my mind?"

"I can," the Hat confirmed, sounding rather smug. "And you've been a very naughty boy, Harry. The future is not a toy to be messed with."

Harry reddened and almost sulkily thought, "I don't have the Book anymore. I think Dumbledore…"

"I know what you think," the Hat interrupted, "and _I_ think it for the best that you no longer have that book. Now to get back to our topic in hand."

"I don't want to be in Slytherin," Harry snapped in his mind. "Blondie is in that house and I don't like him."

"Ravenclaw is beyond your reach."

"Then what about Gryffindor?"

"Home of the brave and foolish – if not Slytherin, then Gryffindor seems a fitting house for a boy like you," the Hat said, before yelling out, "GRYFFINDOR."

Harry joined the Gryffindor table although the clapping for him was non-existent from the Slytherin table and somewhat restrained from everybody else. As he sat down next to one of the twins, Harry was spoken to by him in a whisper.

"Don't worry," the twin, who was called Fred, said, "the Hat wanted to put me in Slytherin too."

"Did you stop it half-way through it calling it out?"

"No," Fred had to own up and say. "But better that you did than end up there with someone like Snape."

"Snape?" Harry asked.

"The teacher in black who keeps staring at you - he's head of Slytherin."

Harry shivered at the malevolent look on Snape's face as the two of them locked eyes before Harry looked away and said to Fred, "I don't think he likes me."

"It isn't just you - he doesn't like anybody."

Ron then joined the two of them interrupting the conversation about Snape. "Wow, mate, that was a close call."

"Yeah," Harry agreed. "That hat said I was sneaky…"

"Me too," the other twin, George, butted in. "Look, Harry, don't worry about it. You're a Gryffindor now."

Deciding that George was right, Harry turned his attention to the food that had suddenly appeared.

* * *

Harry's school week was going well and by Thursday he had all but forgotten about the Sorting. However, he was unable to forget that the next day would be his first potions lesson with Snape, who was still eyeing Harry as if he was some sort of unsavory insect that had crawled up his trouser leg. In readiness for the lesson, Harry was rummaging through his trunk looking for the potions text he knew he would need when Hogwarts: A History fell out of the trunk and on to his littlest toe.

"Ow!"

Ron guffawed at the sight of Harry hopping around on one foot, holding his other one in his hands. "That was funny, Harry."

"Let me drop this book on your foot and see how hard you laugh then," Harry snapped at the laughing redhead.

Ron simply continued to laugh but he at least got up and picked up the offending book before dropping it open on to Harry's bed. He then turned away as Harry flopped on to his bed next to the book.

Harry was about to slam shut the book when he noticed that it was lying open at a chapter and that chapter was entitled 'the Potions Master'.

His back still to Harry, Ron missed the surprised but delighted look on Harry's face as Harry closed the book, deciding he would read it later with his bedroom curtains shut and when everybody was asleep.

Half an hour later, Harry had finally finished reading his new copy of the Book. It now outlined his experiences so far and included a new chapter, the one he had seen when he had stubbed his toe, and Harry knew that to get by the next day, he would have to remember exactly what Snape was going to ask him so that he could avoid losing points. However, that wasn't quite what would happen...

* * *

Harry was feeling rather confident as he entered the Potions Classroom and he was less nervous than his book counterpart had probably been – he knew all the answers to the questions that Snape was going to ask. Therefore when Snape sprung his first question, Harry pretended to consider it for a moment before answering, "Asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion known as the Draught of Living Death."

It was obvious that Snape had not been expecting Harry to answer correctly, and after seemingly being struck dumb for a few moments, he then quickly moved on to another question. "Where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

To Harry's left, Hermione Granger, whose hand had shot up in response to the first question, was now waving her arm in the air trying to attract Snape's attention. Harry wished Snape would give it to her but he knew from the Book that Snape had it in for him and so he quietly answered, "Um, from the stomach of a goat?"

Not about to be outdone, Snape provided a third question and Harry again answered this correctly. It was obvious that Snape was more than a little angered by Harry's apparent preparedness as he promptly removed a point from Gryffindor.

"A point from Gryffindor for showing off, Potter."

Harry was about to complain when Ron kicked him under the table and Harry subsided. Harry was, however, to lose yet another point. Remembering what had been written in the Book, Harry stepped in to save Neville from a painful encounter with a boils cure by preventing Neville from adding porcupine quills before Neville had taken Seamus' cauldron off the heat.

Snape took umbrage to this interference. "A point from Gryffindor for interfering with another student's potion, Potter."

This time Harry was unable to keep quiet and the words spilled out of his mouth before he could help himself. "But he'd have hurt himself if I hadn't done it."

"Then he'd have learnt to follow instructions, Potter, for which he's just lost a point for Gryffindor, and you've also just lost another point from Gryffindor for talking back to a teacher."

Harry winced as Ron kicked him yet again when Ron had spotted Harry's mouth opening, and Harry dismally hunched back over his cauldron, as he realized he had made things worse instead of better by changing things.

Once the lesson was over, he and Ron left the potions room and Harry complained bitterly. "I gave the right answers and did the right thing and he still picked on me."

"He's always doing the same with Fred and George," Ron said, trying to cheer Harry up.

"But they…" Harry stopped as he realized that he couldn't tell Ron about the Book; it was bad enough that he had made mistakes because he was trying not to get into trouble – he'd only make it doubly worse if Ron started to try to help. "It doesn't matter. Let's go for a walk."

"But it's lunchtime," Ron pointed out.

"I'm not hungry," Harry said, and he turned and left Ron, just wanting to be alone. He decided that rather than going for a walk, he would head back to his room and see if the Book said anything else. It didn't and so Harry lay on his bed instead and sulked.


	8. Avoidance

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter is the sole property of JK Rowling**

**Chapter 8: Avoidance**

The very next night, Harry discovered yet another chapter had appeared in the Book and he was both alarmed and intrigued by the time he had read to the end of it. There was absolutely no way he going to take up flying, which would mean that he could avoid the confrontation with Malfoy he was supposed to get into, Malfoy wouldn't challenge him and Harry would able to circumvent a midnight excursion around the school. Harry did, however, decide that he would at least stop Malfoy from taking Neville's Remembrall by acting before, not after, the flying lesson.

Neville was sitting looking miserably into his bowl of soup when Harry sat down next to him. "Hi, Harry."

"You don't look too happy."

"I'm not," Neville said with a long sigh. "I'm not exactly a big fan of flying and I'd rather not be doing it."

"Nor me," Harry said, before he used the opening to his advantage. "I'm so worried about messing up and I know I won't remember anything we're told. I wish I had something like your Remembrall."

On cue, Neville tugged it from his pocket and held it up. As usual, the inside was a misty red. "I've already forgotten something, so I don't even know why I bother carrying this stupid thing around anyway."

"Then why don't you just leave behind it in the bedroom?" Harry suggested. "Your gran would be upset up if you broke it."

"Knowing my luck that's exactly what I'd do," Neville said in a glum voice. "I'll take it upstairs now."

However by the time Neville got there, stopping along the way to talk to Seamus about how much Seamus was looking forward to the flying lesson, Neville had forgotten why he had gone there in the first place.

And so, just as the Book had predicted, poor Neville was to fall from his broomstick and drop the Remembrall.

And the scene continued to play out just as the Book had decreed it would: Draco went on about Neville being a great lump; Parvati Patil, a nice girl from Harry's house, defended Neville; and Pansy Parkinson, a really horrid girl from Slytherin, teased Parvati about liking fat little cry babies.

And all the time this was happening, Harry was scanning the ground for the Remembrall, but he didn't find it, Draco did, and holding it up, Draco said, "It's that stupid thing Longbottom's gran sent him."

However, it was from this point that things changed. Unlike his book counterpart, Harry didn't tell Malfoy to give him the Remembrall – instead he did as he would have done if it had been Dudley in Draco's place and he slipped to stand behind everyone else and did nothing.

And so it was Ron who took up the mantle of defending Neville. "Give it back, Malfoy."

Unfortunately for Draco, he wasn't able to mount his broomstick as he had done in the Book - Ron had by now moved to stand in front of the blonde, and he prodded Draco in the chest. "I said give it back!"

Draco, bolstered by his classmates' presence, demanded, "Make me, Weasel!"

The combined classes of Gryffindor and Slytherin were stunned when Ron lashed out with his fist, knocking a totally taken by surprise Draco down on to the ground, the Remembrall falling out of his hand and rolling across the grass, landing at Harry's feet.

Harry picked it up and pocketed it just as Draco got up and launched himself at Ron.

Yells of 'fight, fight, fight' sprang up from most of the children, only Hermione Granger trying to stop it.

"Stop fighting, you'll both be expelled!"

Neither boy took any notice of her as they rolled over and over in the grass, both trying to get the upper hand, and, wrapped up in the fight, nobody noticed Professor McGonagall heading their way.

Everybody did, however, freeze as Professor McGonagall's voice cut through the hubbub. "What is the meaning of this?"

"It was Malfoy's fault..."

"Be quiet, Mr. Potter."

As Harry fell silent, Professor McGonagall turned her steely gaze upon Ron and Draco, both of whom were on the ground, Ron on top of Draco with his hands still covered in the dirt that he'd begun to smear into Draco's formerly pristine blonde hair.

"You two will get up and come with me."

Giving each other looks that could kill, Draco and Ron did exactly that. And when Madam Hooch, the flying instructor, returned a short time later sans Neville, who had been delivered into the care of Madam Pomfrey, the Matron of the school's hospital wing, it was all Harry could do to concentrate on the lesson – he felt hideously guilty about letting Ron get into trouble. He now wished, just as he had should have done with the Potions lesson, that he had simply followed what the Book said.

However, a little voice in Harry's head kept on telling him that he didn't want to be a puppet, blindly following what the Book told him to do. It never occurred to Harry not to read the Book and to let nature take its course. Instead he vowed next time to do as the Book told him he should, and that way his friends might not end up getting expelled as he was frightened might have happened to Ron.

Harry was therefore thoroughly relieved when Ron appeared at dinner. "Are you okay?"

Ron nodded his head, although his demeanor was somewhat subdued. "I lost ten points and have a detention with Snape tomorrow night."

"Thank God!"

Ron stared at Harry as if he was nuts. "Didn't you hear me?"

"Yeah, but I thought you might have gotten expelled," Harry said, trying to explain about his relief.

"He's lucky not to have been," Hermione Granger broke in.

"Nobody asked you," Ron said in annoyance. "So butt out."

Harry noticed that Hermione looked hurt before she buried her bushy head back behind the large book she had propped up against the fruit bowl that was in front of her. He lowered his voice. "I'm sorry, Ron."

"It's not your fault, Harry," Ron said, not wanting Harry to feel bad. "I'm the one who hit him."

Harry glanced over at Draco, who was sporting a black eye. "Did it feel good?"

Ron's miserable demeanor changed and his face split into a grin. "It felt brilliant."

The two of them then spent the rest of dinner reliving Ron's glory of beating Draco into the dirt.

Harry's delight was to fade when, as they were leaving the Great Hall, they were stopped by Crabbe and Goyle, Draco's 'friends', stepping in front of him and Ron.

Draco faced off against Ron. He obviously felt as though he had something to prove as he said to him, "You ruined my jumper, Weasel. I demand…"

"Get lost," Ron said, feeling buoyed up by his earlier victory. "You ruined mine as well."

"Not that anybody would notice, it looked so old and raggedy," Draco said nastily. "Unlike mine, and you're going to pay..."

"Make me!" Ron taunted, throwing Draco's words of earlier that day into his face.

Draco colored and snapped, "Wizard's duel – no contact."

Harry wanted to groan and bang his head against the wall as Ron said, "You're on. Harry's my second, who's yours?"

Malfoy thought for a moment before saying, "Crabbe – midnight tonight in the trophy room."

As the Slytherin trio loped off, Harry turned on Ron. "You can't go. He won't turn up."

"Of course he will," Ron said confidently.

"No, he won't," Harry said, just as sure he was right.

"If you don't want to be my second I'll ask Seamus," Ron said, thinking this was Harry's problem.

Harry gave a resigned sigh, not wanting Ron and Seamus to fall into trouble. "I'll be your second, Ron."

Ron cheered up. "Great. There are a few things you should know…"

* * *

As he lay on his bed later that evening, Harry debated telling Ron about the Book and why he hadn't wanted to be Ron's second. Then he decided not to - he didn't know why, but he didn't want to share it, not yet. So instead, at eleven thirty, he got up when Ron nudged him.

"Harry, are you awake?"

"Yes," whispered Harry back, before trying one last time to talk Ron out of going. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

"I have to," Ron said, standing back so that Harry could get up from his bed. "Malfoy would call me a coward if I didn't go."

"Then let's go."

Both boys headed out of the bedroom and downstairs, jumping out of their skins when Hermione rose up from a high backed chair that was placed in front of the fire. "I can't believe you're going to do this."

"Mind your own business, Granger," Ron barked out.

Hermione did nothing of the sort and instead she tried to stop the two boys by stepping in front of them. "I almost told your brother…"

Harry halted the conversation before Hermione could mention Percy, as he suspected she might. "Hermione, we're going and, if you don't want to get caught out of bed, I think you should stay here. You don't want to lose all those points Professor McGonagall awarded you for knowing about Switching Spells."

This took the wind out of Hermione's sails – she _had_ been intending to lecture the two boys on losing points for Hufflepuff and by using the very example Harry himself had. "Fine, but just remember that I told you so when you're on the train…"

As she was speaking Harry had grabbed Ron and dragged him outside, the door shutting to and cutting off the remainder of Hermione's speech.

Ron let out a sigh of relief as he followed Harry down the corridor. "Thank goodness. We'd better hurry."

Both boys suddenly drew to a halt as a sort of snuffling reached their ears. After a moment's panic, Harry guessed what, or rather who, it was, ignoring Ron's half asked question of 'Mrs. Norris?'. "It sounds like Neville."

It was, and just as the Book had said, he was curled upon the floor fast asleep, waking up as they got nearer.

Harry got in before Neville could break into a speech. "You couldn't remember the password?"

Neville shook his head. It was then he realized that Harry and Ron shouldn't have been there. "What are you two doing out here?"

"I'm going to be Ron's second in a duel. Why don't you go back to Gryffindor and try to get in? The password is Pig's snout." Harry said all of this as quickly as he could, Ron tugging at his sleeve.

"I'm not going back there on my own," Neville said in a nervous voice. "The Bloody Baron's been past twice already."

Letting go of Harry's sleeve, Ron looked at his watch before deciding to let Neville go with them, but not without a warning. "If you get us caught, I'll never rest until I've learnt that Curse of the Bogies Quirrell told us about and used it on you."

Neville promised faithfully he'd keep quiet and stick close to them. However, Harry knew they'd get safely to the trophy room and so he wasn't nearly as worried as Ron about running into Filch, the caretaker, or Mrs. Norris, his cat, at least not on the way there.

As Harry expected, when they arrived, there was no sign of Draco or Crabbe in the trophy room. After a few minutes of waiting, Harry made a suggestion. "I think we should go. It looks as though he's chickened out."

"Just another five minutes," Ron said, not wanting to go and have Draco turn up afterwards.

Harry just knew what would happen even as he agreed to Ron's request and sure enough, after less than two minutes, an oily voice reached their ears.

"Sniff around, my sweet, they might be lurking in a corner."

And so Harry did as he had promised himself he would, he followed the Book's instructions and, waving madly to indicate that the others should follow him, he headed towards the door that lay in the opposite direction to Filch's voice.

With Filch muttering behind them, Harry stuck to the script. "This way!"

The script didn't let him down – as if on cue, moments later, Neville crashed into Ron and brought down a suit of armor.

Harry yelled, "RUN!"

The boys eventually made good their escape, only to run into another obstacle: Peeves, who made as much noise as the suit of armor crashing to the ground had.

And consequently, as if being herded in a direction that Harry had most definitely not wanted to go in, the three boys found themselves in front of a door, which Ron tried opening but to no avail.

"This is it! We're done for! This is the end!"

Hearing Filch getting closer, Harry shoved Ron aside and aimed his wand at the door, knowing even as he did it, what was waiting behind the door. "Alohomora."

The door swung open and Harry had no choice about going through the doorway, Ron pushing him inside the room in his panic and dragging Neville along with them, before slamming shut the door and leaning against it, Ron closing his eyes.

Harry did his best to ignore what was behind Ron, but it was hard to miss the three headed dog. Harry just hoped it wouldn't make a move until Filch had gone, anything the Book had said going out of his head in his fear.

Next to him, Neville was shaking and also staring at the dog before he looked at Harry and managed to croak out, "Dog!"

Ron now finally opened his eyes, before they almost doubled in size as they widened and he squeaked, "Out!"

The three boys vied to get out first and the dog lunged forward just as Harry, who was the furthest from the entrance, slammed the door shut behind him. He then set off after Ron and Neville, who had taken off as fast as their frightened legs would carry them back towards Gryffindor.

When he arrived back, having overtaken both Neville and Ron, Harry didn't think he'd ever been as glad to see the Fat Lady, the guardian of Gryffindor tower, as he was at that moment. "Pig snout," he shouted as he got closer, cutting off anything the Fat Lady might have been about to say.

The portrait swung open and they all piled inside to discover Hermione Granger was still up. She immediately began to lecture them.

"I hope you didn't lose us any points."

"No, we didn't," Ron said in a voice that sounded a little squeaky.

Harry backed Ron up. "So you can go back to bed and stop worrying."

Hermione threw back her hair and stalked off, having nothing else to say to the three boys.

Ron then began a tirade about keeping a dog in the school, Neville whole-heartedly agreeing with him. During the conversation, Harry noticed that neither Ron nor Neville had mentioned the trap door the dog had been standing on and so he kept quiet about it. However, just as the Book had mentioned, he wondered what the thing the dog was guarding could be and where it had come from.

It would be some time before Harry remembered about the Gringotts' break-in as his mind would be occupied by thoughts of Halloween, the next chapter in the Book.


	9. Pandora's Box

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter is the sole property of J K Rowling but the OCs are mine**

**Chapter 9: Pandora's Box**

Harry giggled at Ron's impression of Percy. "You sound just like him."

Ron sat down on a rock. "Nev, it's your turn."

Neville shook his head, his discomfort evident. "I can't."

"Course you can," Harry said, standing up. "Watch me." He then thought about Dudley, before saying, "'ere, you. You know I'm better than you, don't yeh?"

Standing up, Ron grinned at Harry and played up to him, acting all confused. "What do you mean, Harry?"

"I mean you're thick and he's stupid," Harry said in a very good impression of Dudley's voice. "And I'm always going to get better marks than you!" Harry then ended the impression before saying to Neville, "See, I'm not that good at it. Just give it a shot."

As Harry sat down, Neville finally unbent enough to do that, deciding to use his grandmother as his object of ridicule.

"Neville Longbottom, don't forget to wipe your feet; where's your handkerchief?; don't forget to use a napkin."

The silly female voice was too much for Harry and Ron and they collapsed laughing, Neville joining them. However, they had no idea that one of their parodies had been overheard and misconstrued and it was going to cost its instigator dearly.

* * *

Harry was only half listening to Madam Hooch. He really found the flying lessons boring. At that moment, Gryffindor and Slytherin were flying circuits slowly around the quidditch pitch, keeping to five feet above the ground – Neville's accident had put back the lessons somewhat. His mind elsewhere, Harry forced himself to pay attention as they were called to land.

Madam Hooch peered at the children. "Now that you can all fly adequately well, it's time to learn more about keeping your balance on a broomstick."

Harry stifled a yawn with the back of his hand, the teacher droning on.

Hermione, having spotted the glazed look in Harry's eyes and being a stickler for behaving, nudged Harry. "Wake up!"

After sharing an eye-roll with Ron, Harry obediently transferred his attention back to the teacher rather than the back of his hand.

"I have balls here that will float in the air until you manage to grab them," Madam Hooch said, her voice having been amplified as she walked down to the far end of the quidditch pitch. "I am, of course, going to be placing cushioning charms on the floor so that no-one gets hurt if they fall off." This was again a backlash from Neville's accident.

On the Professor's return from the far end of the pitch, Harry mounted his broomstick along with the rest of the children.

One by one they were ordered to fly at a height of five feet up until they were close to the area where the balls were floating in mid-air. Once there, they had to rise slowly up to pluck the ball out of the sky, maintaining a firm grip on the broomstick with one hand, while grabbing the ball with the other.

Just before it was Harry's turn, Professor McGonagall came down to the pitch, drawing Madam Hooch to one side. Madam Hooch imperiously held up a finger to halt her speech, and turned back to face the class. "Mr. Potter, slowly lap the arena until I return. If you feel uncomfortable, then please land."

As the two teachers stepped away from the group and out of the stadium, Draco Malfoy used the moment to get a dig in. "Bet you can't even make it around the arena without falling off, Potter."

Harry gave Draco a look of scorn. "What do you think we've been doing all lesson, Malfoy?"

Draco went red and quickly thought of a comeback. "And you sucked, Potter."

"I was still better than you," Harry retorted, hating this boy almost as much as he hated Dudley.

"In your dreams, Potter," Draco said, before saying, "Unlike you I'd be able to catch a ball."

"Prove it," Harry said.

Picking up a broomstick, Draco did exactly that, flying back to land beside Harry with a ball in his hand. "Your turn, Potter."

Remembering how good his book counterpart had apparently been at flying, Oliver Wood, the Gryffindor quidditch captain, calling him 'a natural', and feeling somewhat stifled, Harry was unable to resist doing more than simply collecting a ball, especially since he now believed his teacher was on her way back up to the school. Bending low over his broomstick, he shot forward, flying a good twenty feet into the air before dive-bombing the gathered students and then heading high into the air and towards the balls.

Contrary to both Harry's and Draco's beliefs, neither teacher had headed back to the school and were both currently standing outside of the quidditch stadium, although neither could see what was going on inside. But upon hearing cheers from the students, Professor McGonagall knew something was up, and she pointed back at the stadium. "I think your students are misbehaving."

Running back into the stadium, Madam Hooch screamed out in alarm at the sight of Harry speeding towards the balls from a height of about forty feet. "Mr. Potter, stop, stop!"

With the wind whipping through his hair, Harry didn't hear the words that were being carried away and, with no-one in his path to impede his progress, Harry continued on his set course towards the floating balls.

However, the school broomstick that Harry was riding being what it was, temperamental and old, it decided to buck Harry just as he reached the balls, throwing him upside down and almost dumping him off. Harry, however, managed to keep a grip of the broomstick and, showing off to some extent, he remained upside down as he decided to see if he was as good as his book counterpart and so he reached out and grabbed a ball, before managing to somewhat clumsily turn himself back upright.

It was only as Harry turned the broomstick to head back to join his classmates that Harry realized the cheering had stopped. And he knew why when he spotted Madam Hooch's furious look and Professor McGonagall standing with her. Harry just hoped that the scene would play out as it should have done in the Book and McGonagall would think Harry was the answer to Gryffindor's quidditch prayers. However, it was not to be.

Having overheard Harry's mimicry of Dudley and not realizing what had it had been, Harry had become one of McGonagall's least favorite students – she disliked boastful people. And at that moment she believed that Harry had been showing off, both now and during his mimicry. She therefore snatched the broomstick out of Harry's hand the moment he landed before telling him off.

"Mr. Potter, while you believe it permissible to show off for your friends, I do not. All future flying lessons are cancelled for you, and you'll serve three nights' detention with Professor Snape."

Harry tried to protest. "I wasn't trying to show off, Professor."

"Then what do you call hanging upside on a broomstick?"

"It was the broomstick – it flipped me," Harry said, hoping that the Professor would believe him.

She didn't. "A very unlikely story, Mr. Potter. You'll come with me and begin on your Transfiguration homework while the rest of the class continues with their lesson."

Harry could see Malfoy and his cronies smirking, and he felt more than a little dismayed. However, Harry was conscious of the fact that he had been the one to issue the challenge to Malfoy and therefore he only had himself to blame for what had happened. He therefore agreed with the Professor. "Yes, Ma'am."

A polite cough interrupted them, and Madam Hooch nodded to one side, drawing Professor McGonagall away from Harry. "Minerva, you can't be serious about the flying."

Professor McGonagall was, and she pursed her lips as she responded, "Harry Potter needs to be taught a lesson, Mara. He's already far too egotistical for his own good."

"He's never seemed that way to me," Madam Hooch said, defending Harry. "Minerva, think about it. If you stop Potter from flying, he'll never develop the talent he already seems to possess." She then used the weak spot in Minerva's armor. "And we need talent if any quidditch team is ever going to beat Slytherin."

Mara Hooch's shot hit home, but Minerva was still more than a little infuriated by what she perceived as bragging. "Even so, Harry Potter is a first year and a one-off stunt doesn't prove he can fly."

"Then we'll find out if he can," Mara said, and, before Minerva could stop her, she called out to Harry. "Mr. Potter, please join us and bring your broomstick. Everyone else should return their broomsticks to the cupboard and head back inside. You can begin on your transfiguration homework."

Half suspecting what this meant for Harry, Hermione gave Harry a disgusted look before departing. Harry suspected that some of Hermione's dislike of him stemmed from the fact that he was keeping company with Ron, who had made it patently clear that he didn't like the bushy hair girl. His thoughts though, would have to be put on the back burner, as Madam Hooch was now talking.

"I've spoken to Professor McGonagall and, given your seemingly adept display, we'd like to see exactly what you can do, Mr. Potter. How high are you comfortable flying?"

Harry shrugged. "I don't know. Today was the highest I've ever gone."

"Then please let's begin by testing you out," Madam Hooch said, not really expecting Harry to go more than forty feet or so into the air.

Harry mounted his broomstick and shot into the air, vanishing from sight into the clouds before returning a few moments later, landing smoothly and dismounting to stand next to his slightly pale flying teacher. "What now, Ma'am?"

"You'll need to give us a moment." Mara took Minerva to one side again. "I think Harry should shadow Theo Flatwick, to see how he does in a practice test run."

Minerva was rather dubious about this idea. "But he's the Ravenclaw seeker."

"And he's also the best seeker in the school," Mara pointed out. "If Harry is going to be on the Gryffindor team…"

"I'm not sure he will be," Minerva said in a somewhat huffy voice, rather annoyed that Mara Hooch was trying to steamroller her.

Mara gave Minerva a look that spoke volumes. "You know as well as I do that Gryffindor are in serious need of a good seeker and Potter might be your best option."

"Then I'll send a message up to the school," Minerva said, although she didn't exactly agree with Harry being afforded such favored treatment after his stunt.

When Theo, a sixth year, arrived, Harry shook hands as he was introduced to him, up until then only having really seen him at meals. It was then explained to Harry that he had to keep up with Theo, who would be riding his Nimbus 2000, rather than a Cleansweep Three, which most of the school broomsticks were and which was the broomstick Harry was currently using. To add to the thrill of the chase, the snitch would be released at some point, and Harry was told to do his best to try and catch it, although no-one expected him to be able to do so.

Mounting the broomstick, Harry waited for Madam Hooch's whistle and then shot after Theo, closely sticking on the boy's tail, turn for turn, spin for spin, surprising not only Harry but Theo as well.

Deciding to use flat-out speed to outclass Harry, Theo shot upwards, leaning over his broomstick. Harry followed, flattening himself against the elderly Cleansweep to try to keep up with the older boy.

As they shot through the cloud cover, which was unusually low that day, Theo spotted the snitch and abruptly turned and went after it, Harry right on his tail. Harry laughed in delight as they both hurtled at speed towards the ground, both boys pulling up earlier than necessary in order to avoid running into the grassy soil.

Skimming above the ground, Harry had to admit that Theo was good as the snitch changed direction and Harry moved to block Theo as he tried to get the snitch first. As he did, Theo shot over Harry with ease, snatching the snitch out of the air. Then Theo flew down to the ground, Harry following behind.

Her face revealing none of her feelings, Minerva pulled Theo to one side. "Do you think that Potter has the makings of a decent quidditch player, Mr. Flatwick?"

Theo stared at his professor in stunned surprise that she had even asked. "He managed to keep up with me, Professor, and on a broomstick that shouldn't even be capable of flying, let alone flying like that."

"So you think that I should ask Wood to give him a chance next year?" Minerva asked.

"Next year?" Theo's voice showed his disbelief. "Professor, I don't mean to be rude and you are our opposition but Gryffindor are going to be beaten into the ground by Slytherin next month if they don't get a decent Seeker now."

"Potter only came to my attention for showing off, Mr. Flatwick," Minerva said shortly. "I don't believe in praising misbehavior, and he has been banned from flying. I'm only giving him this chance now because of Professor Madam Hooch's belief that Potter might one day provide us with a potential quidditch player."

"Professor, I understand that, but you really could do with him now," Theo said fervently, believing in fair play even though Harry was the opposition.

Minerva dismissed Theo without responding to his comment. "Thank you for your time, Mr. Flatwick."

"You're welcome, Professor," Theo said, before he headed off back towards the school, thinking that if the Professor didn't use Harry she was mad.

Mara joined Minerva. "You're not going to give him a chance, are you?"

"Not this year," Minerva said, believing in fair play as much as Theo did, and it was this that was pushing her towards making Harry wait. "He misbehaved and it would be wrong to give him a privilege such as playing for Gryffindor."

"Then enjoy watching Slytherin win again," Mara said dejectedly, recognizing the stubborn look on Minerva's face.

Minerva beckoned to Harry. "Please return to Hogwarts and join your classmates. Your future flying lessons with be spent in my classroom working on your Transfiguration assignments."

A very dejected and regretful Harry headed back to school, cursing the fact that he had been stupid enough to allow Malfoy annoy him and for being even stupider by reading the Book. He had, however, opened up Pandora's Box and the next chapter was, so to speak, already out there, the previous evening Harry having read about Halloween and Hermione Granger's run-in with a troll. It was also where he had read about his book counterpart's flying skills and one of the reasons he was now in the mess he was.

So at that moment, Harry was angry with himself for relying on the Book and so, swearing that he was never going to read the darned thing again, he headed back to school.

* * *

When Halloween finally arrived, after thinking things over, Harry decided that he would let nature takes it course and so he did nothing to stop Ron from upsetting Hermione; deep down he actually agreed with his friend.

However, by the time lunch was over, Harry was feeling guilty and, instead of attending class, he cried off, feigning illness so that he could go look for Hermione. He found her in the girls' toilets but when he tried to talk to her, she ran off. Harry felt relieved that she would no longer be in the way of the troll and feeling more comfortable about her safety, he joined his next class.

However, when dinner came around, Harry was horrified to overhear that Hermione had apparently returned to the toilets, and he was about to get up and do something about it when Professor Quirrell dashed into the Great Hall screaming out, "Troll - in the dungeon - thought you ought to know."

Harry knew at that point in time how wrong it would be for him to simply just leave Hermione to her fate – he had no intention of facing the troll though.

Instead, he looked around for a teacher, but they had all left with Dumbledore, and Harry knew he was supposed to be leaving with his house to follow the prefects back to Gryffindor tower. He also knew that he couldn't do it; he had felt bad enough about Ron getting into trouble during their first flying lesson. He couldn't imagine how he'd feel if Hermione Granger was to be killed facing off against a troll. He therefore began to look for someone to tell.

Spotting Cedric Diggory, who had helped him at the train station, Harry hurried over to him. "Excuse me, Cedric."

Cedric told his friend he'd catch up and he turned to Harry. "Shouldn't you be with your house?"

"Hermione Granger, one of the girls in my year is in a bathroom near the dungeons," Harry said hurriedly. "She was upset and doesn't know about the troll."

"Go back to your house," Cedric ordered, taking charge. "I'll make sure your friend gets out of the bathroom safely."

"She's not my friend," Harry said quickly, not wanting Cedric to think that Hermione was.

"Okay," Cedric said, pushing Harry towards the trailing end of the Gryffindors. "But I'll find her anyway."

Hermione, however, didn't return to Gryffindor that night, something Harry only discovered the next morning when an announcement was made at breakfast.

"Miss Granger will not be returning to classes for a few days. Unfortunately she had an encounter with the troll last night and so she is currently in the hospital wing if her friends wish to visit her."

Harry and his classmates all looked at each other a little awkwardly. Nobody liked the bushy haired girl and rarely said much to her. Hermione certainly had no-one she could call a friend. And Harry most certainly wasn't her friend but he now felt guilty and so he said to Ron, "Do you think we should go visit her?"

"Why?" Ron asked bluntly. "I don't like her."

"But you did make her cry," Neville pointed out.

"I never made her stay in the stupid toilets all day," Ron said, his cheeks burning red as he did feel guilty about what had happened although he was not about to admit it to his friends.

"I still think we should go and see her," Harry said, Neville seconding his idea.

"Well, I'm not going," Ron said and he got up and walked off.

Lying in bed in the hospital ward, Hermione was surprised to see Harry and Neville arriving after lunch, Harry handing over some of the candy that had been still on the tables that morning.

"You didn't get any so I thought I'd bring you some."

"I can't eat it," Hermione said in a strangely muffled voice. "Mummy and Daddy wouldn't like it – they're dentists. But even if I did want to, I can't eat it at the moment anyway."

Harry and Neville shared a confused look, before Harry asked, "Why not?"

"Because the troll knocked out all of my teeth and I have to regrow them. If it hadn't been for Professor Sprout and one of the Hufflepuffs, it would probably have killed me."

"Is Cedric okay?" Harry asked, guessing that it had been Cedric who had gone to Hermione's rescue.

"Cedric?" Hermione asked in confusion.

"He didn't rescue you?"

"No, David Duke, one of the seventh year prefects and Professor Sprout did," Hermione said. "Why would you think this Cedric did?"

"No reason," Harry said, suddenly discovering that he didn't want Hermione to find out that he had tried to help her, although he wasn't sure why he felt like that. He stood up. "I'll tell everyone you're okay."

Neville gave Hermione a fleeting smile before following Harry out. "Harry, why didn't you tell her that you told him about rescuing her?"

"I dunno," Harry said, shrugging his shoulders. "I just didn't."

Ron tried to act casually when Neville and Harry returned to Gryffindor, the afternoon being their free period. "Where have you been?"

"I told you, we went to see Granger," Harry said. "She's okay but the troll knocked out all of her teeth and she's re-growing them."

"I wonder if they'll be as big before," Ron mused.

"Ron!"

Ron looked at Harry in surprise. "What?"

"That's a bit mean."

"You said she had big teeth as well," Ron reminded him.

Harry went red. "Yeah, but that was before."

"You like her now?" Neville asked.

Harry shook his head. "No, but I feel bad that she got hurt, and we were horrible to her."

"I'm not going to be her friend just because I made her cry," Ron said, thinking that this was where the conversation was going.

"Nor am I," Harry said, watching Ron relax with relief. "But I think we should be a bit nicer to her."

"So do I," Neville said, although he had never really been horrid about Hermione.

"Okay," Ron said, "but I'm not being her friend."

"Agreed," Harry said and he sat down on his bed, noticing the Book lying there - he had had it out to check on how things would happen that day. Picking it up, he shoved it into his trunk. It had caused enough trouble and he wasn't about to keep on reading it, not even to check on things. Whatever was going to happen, was going to happen!


	10. The Rudest Boy

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter is the sole property of JK Rowling but OCs are mine**

**Chapter 10: The Rudest Boy**

Harry was in the library struggling through his History of Magic homework when a polite cough interrupted him. He looked up to see Hermione Granger standing beside his desk. "Yes?"

"I wanted to thank you."

Harry was confused. "What for?"

"For telling Cedric to come and rescue me," Hermione said in explanation, before asking a question. "Why didn't you tell me you'd done that when you visited me in the hospital wing?"

"Because I didn't want you to know," Harry said without thinking.

"Why not?"

"Because I just didn't," Harry said, not wanting to say that deep down it was probably because, like Ron, he didn't want Hermione as a friend.

Hermione was distracted from responding to his answer when she glanced down and saw what Harry was working on. "It was Glodbog who lost the Battle of Tildon."

"I know that!" Harry snapped, not liking that Hermione was pointing out his mistake.

"I was just trying to help!" Hermione snapped back. "If you'll excuse me."

Harry was relieved when she walked off to sit with Justin Finch-Fletchley.

It was strange how things turned out, for, as the Book had stated, sharing things, such as knocking out a troll, tended to make friends of people. And it had, at least for Hermione Granger and Justin Finch-Fletchley. It transpired that she had been visited by not only Professor Sprout, but she had also been invited to tea in the Hufflepuff Common Room, to which she had gone. It was for this reason that Hermione was now friends with Justin.

Harry was simply glad that she wasn't friends with him; he had no idea that that had been Hermione's intention when she had walked over to thank him.

Returning his attention to his obviously incorrect work, Harry looked through his text book until he found the Battle of Tildon and he began to work once again on his essay.

* * *

The weeks went by uneventfully until finally Harry woke up bright and early on the morning of the first quidditch match of the season: Gryffindor versus Slytherin. From the rumors floating around the school, Harry knew that it was likely Gryffindor were going to be slaughtered, and that was being nice about it.

Ron noticed Harry was awake and he immediately began to talk about quidditch. "I wish it me playing today."

"I wish you were playing as well," Harry said, by now being more than a little conscious of the fact that Ron was quidditch crazy.

In fact Ron had regaled Harry on more than one occasion with stories of how he and his brothers had played glorious games in their garden. Harry was also aware that Ron was more than a little jealous that Fred and George were both beaters for Gryffindor.

When he had first heard about, and then read about, the game of quidditch and how it worked, Harry had been more than a little shocked at the violence that could erupt, and even that people had died playing the game, although not in Hogwarts. Ron, however, didn't seem to worry about the violence of the game, and Harry's response had been the perfect answer to Ron's question and he was beaming as he got out of bed, daydreaming about the day when he would be a big quidditch star.

Harry lay in bed a little longer, wondering what Ron what have said if Harry had shown him the original chapter in the Book about Harry making the team; a chapter that had now changed beyond recognition to reflect Harry's revised actions. Although in all truth, that morning Harry doubted that, even if he had made the Gryffindor team, he would have been able to pick up a broomstick, let alone catch a snitch, and he stretched his fingers out; they were still aching terribly from the cleaning he had had to do in Snape's detention the night before.

Harry grimaced as he thought about how many detentions he had had with Snape; between them McGonagall and Snape had assigned Harry more detentions with Snape than he cared to think about. Ron had even joked about him having more detentions than the twins ever had, and they were well on their way to beating the school record, which apparently was held by a group known as the Marauders, although Harry had no idea who they were and he wasn't really that interested either.

"Aren't you getting up?" Ron asked, as he walked back past Harry as he returned from the bathroom. "I want to get good seats for the match."

A little reluctantly, Harry slid out of bed.

Less than ten minutes into the match he found himself wishing he'd stayed there.

"And Slytherin scores again." Lee Jordan, the commentator for the quidditch match was far from buoyant as he declared for the opposition. So far Gryffindor were trailing fifty to ten and it was not looking good for them.

After that things just went downhill even more and Gryffindor ended up losing, four hundred and ninety to thirty.

Harry followed a very dismal Ron away from the quidditch stadium.

"We were rubbish."

Harry had to agree. "Yeah."

Neville, who still didn't see the point of quidditch and still didn't like flying, didn't feel as though he had much to add to the conversation but he nevertheless agreed. "Yeah."

As he headed back to Gryffindor, Harry had no idea that if he had followed the Book and ended up on the Gryffindor team, he would have not only won the match for them, but he'd have also discovered more about the three-headed dog he, Ron and Neville had ran into. And not only that, but he would have learnt a very important name. However, he was about to make a very different discovery.

* * *

When Christmas Day arrived, Harry never suspected for one moment as he expressed his surprise at the mound of presents at the foot of his bed that he was quoting the Book word for word. And even if he had known, he'd have never figured out that because of his actions so far, as originally written, there was one present missing from his pile, a very important present, a flute from Hagrid. But as he'd never seen the original chapter or the chapter as it stood now as he was sticking to his promise to himself not to read the Book, Harry was completely oblivious to either fact.

Instead he was gasping over the fact his aunt and uncle had actually sent him something. He opened up the present and read the short note, before saying sarcastically, "That's friendly."

The fifty pence piece his relatives had sent him ended up in Ron's pocket, Harry telling him he could keep it when Ron expressed curiosity.

Harry was more than a little excited to receive the bulky green sweater Ron's mum had knitted for him as well as a box of homemade fudge. Harry immediately tried a piece and declared it was delicious.

Harry's next two presents were both going to cause surprise but for entirely different reasons.

Ron picked up the square box that sat next in the pile. "Harry, why has Granger sent you a present?"

"Are you sure?"

Ron read the attached card out loud.

_'To Harry Potter, Merry Christmas, from Hermione Granger.'_

Harry took the box off Ron and he asked himself more or less the same question Ron just had. "Why would she be sending me a gift?"

"Perhaps she fancies you."

Harry threw a piece of fudge at Ron's head. Ron promptly ate it before urging Harry to open the box.

"Go on then, don't just look at it."

Harry discovered the gift was a box of sugar free sweets and there was another note inside, which he read out loud as well.

_'This is from my parents to say thank you for helping me at Halloween, Hermione Granger.' _

Ron let out a sigh of relief. "At least you know now that she doesn't fancy you, mate."

"I never thought she did." Harry put down the sweets and nodded towards the last item in the pile. "What's that?"

"Dunno."

Harry tugged open the parcel and in a fluttering display of silvery grey, something lightweight and almost ethereal in nature dropped to the floor.

Ron did a double-take. "If that's what I think it is – they're really rare, and _really_ valuable.'

"What is it?" Harry asked he picked up the strange pile of material off the floor.

"It's an invisibility cloak. I'm sure it is – try it on."

When Harry tried on the cloak, Ron cried out, "It is. Look down."

Harry was about to say something about his invisible body when a note fluttered down to the ground and once again Ron took up the honors of reading.

_'Your father left this in my possession before he died. It is time it was returned to you. Use it well. A Very Merry Christmas to you.'_

"It doesn't say who it's from?"

"Perhaps it's from your relatives," Ron suggested.

Harry snorted. "I was lucky to get the fifty pence piece."

Any more discussion was halted with the invasion of the twins and Harry hid the cloak, winking at Ron, who didn't want to share it with his brothers either.

Harry had a wonderful day but as he lay in bed that night, he began to wonder who had sent the cloak and whether the Book would have told him. "I'm not looking at it. I'm not looking at it."

He looked at it, reading twice over the chapter that had appeared. He frowned when he saw he was supposed to be heading to the Restricted Section to look for something about someone called 'Flamel'. Harry decided not to go until he read the next part of the Book, the part that led to him being able to see his family in a mirror. His heart lurched and he had to force himself to continue reading and not to leap out of bed. He was glad he did when he discovered that the Mirror was known as the Mirror of Erised and that Dumbledore was going to take his only connection with his family away from him.

Harry decided there and then he was going to follow the Book this time, but that he'd only make two visits to the Mirror, if he could find it that is. He found it, simply by doing what the Book had said: breaking a lamp; avoiding Filch and Snape and finding the room by chance. And then, once inside, just as the Book had said, there, in the Mirror, was his mother.

Harry sank to the floor, touching a hand to the Mirror, his heart pounding. Then he saw his dad and Harry wiped away the tears he didn't even know he'd been shedding. It was almost morning before he went back to his room. But unlike as Harry in the Book had, Harry didn't tell Ron; it just felt too personal and, most of all, Harry didn't want to share.

He did, however, keep his visits to two over those first three nights but on the fifth night, it became too much to stand and he hurried off to the room that the Mirror was kept in, only to discover it wasn't there anymore. Harry searched the castle for most of the night, before, dejected, he gave up and headed for bed. Dumbledore had obviously discovered his visits but unlike the Book, he hadn't revealed himself to Harry and Harry found himself wondering why. It would be a question that would bother him for some time to come, even more so than the nightmares he'd begun having about losing his parents.

He was therefore tired and grumpy by the time school began again and although he knew he had to say thank you to Hermione, he did so with little grace.

"Granger!"

Hermione turned around as she heard someone call her by her surname. "You can call me Hermione, you know."

"I suppose," Harry said tiredly.

"Did you want something?"

"Yeah," Harry said. "You didn't have to get your parents to send me sweets. It's not like I did anything."

"I didn't ask them, they sent them and asked me to pass them on," Hermione said. "And if you hadn't gone to Cedric, I'd probably have died, so you did do something."

"Well, tell them they shouldn't have bothered."

"Or perhaps I should just tell them thank you," Hermione said in a curt voice. "It's tradition."

"I was going to say that next."

"I'm quite sure you were." Hermione's tone said that she didn't believe Harry.

"Whatever, just thank them," Harry said and he turned and walked away.

"Well!"

Cedric came up behind Hermione. "Are you okay?"

"It's Potter. Apart from Weasley, he's probably the rudest boy I know."

"He didn't seem that way when I first met him at the train station. He seemed almost pathetically grateful for my help in all truth."

"Well, he's not pathetically grateful now," Hermione declared. "In fact he's rather the opposite. My parents were only trying to be nice and he more or less said he didn't want their gift."

Cedric put his arm around the young girl who by now had tears in her eyes. "Then perhaps you should ignore him in future. You have friends in Hufflepuff."

Hermione smiled gratefully up at Cedric. "Did you have a nice Christmas?"

"I did and I've sent your parents a thank you note for the sweets and the book."

"You liked them?"

"I did," Cedric confirmed as he led Hermione to sit down by Justin, "although I had to fight off Dad from stealing them all."

Mollified, Hermione greeted Justin and quickly settled down with her friends, expunging any thoughts of Harry from her mind.


	11. A Change of House

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter is the sole property of JK Rowling/OCs are all mine**

**Chapter 11: A Change of House**

Minerva McGonagall frowned as she listened to Pomona Sprout and Albus Dumbledore discussing Hufflepuff's upcoming match with her Lions. When it became too much to bear, she turned around.

"We're not going to be steamrollered this time. Slytherin played a dastardly game."

Pomona gave her colleague a knowing look. "Minerva, while my Badgers are the kindest people off the field, in the game of quidditch they will give as little shrift to your team as Slytherin did. With your current seeker, you are going to lose, and heavily."

Filius, whose house still had to play Gryffindor, had to agree. "I still don't understand why you didn't recruit Potter. According to Flatwick, he was absolutely brilliant."

Albus turned a beady eye on Minerva. "Yes, Minerva, why didn't you recruit Harry?"

"You know very well why, Albus," Minerva said, visibly bristling.

Albus stood up. "Let's go and talk in my sitting room. If you'll excuse us."

Minerva followed Albus into his sitting room and rather reluctantly took a seat by the fire. "I'm not going to change my mind. That boy has been nothing but a thorn in everyone's side since he started here."

"You and Severus seem to be the only teachers with that opinion."

"Albus, you know only too well that the boy is trouble. You told me yourself he nearly killed his aunt."

"A decision, I'm beginning to regret," Albus said in a severe voice. "I told you that in strictest confidence so that you might understand why Harry might have difficulties. I didn't expect you to use it as an excuse to punish the boy."

"And he's a show-off, Albus," Minerva snapped. "I overheard him belittling Longbottom and Weasley about how much cleverer he is than them. And it's not just that, Miss Granger was nearly killed because of his cruelty."

Contrary to popular belief, Albus was not aware of everything that went on in Hogwarts, despite what the rumors might say. "I beg your pardon."

"I spoke to Miss Brown the day after the incident with the troll. It turns out that Potter and his cronies were picking on Miss Granger for doing well in Filius' class and it was for this reason she was hiding out in the girls' toilet that day."

"Are you telling me this in an official capacity?"

"Yes, I am."

"Then perhaps I should speak to Miss Granger."

"I expect she's in the library."

"First of all, I'd like to hear exactly what Miss Brown told you…"

* * *

Hermione was nervous at being summoned to the Headmaster's office, although this didn't stop her from looking around the circular room, taking in the portraits of the former heads that graced the wall before her attention was caught by Albus, who was sitting behind a large desk.

"Come in, Miss Granger. There's no need to be nervous. Come, come, sit down."

Hermione took a seat on an upright chair that had a comfortable padded back, although she didn't really feel as though she should lean against it.

"Lemon sherbet?"

"No, thank you, Headmaster."

"Then let's get down to business, shall we." Albus smiled, trying to put Hermione at ease. "I'd like to hear about what happened in the altercation between yourself and Mr. Potter and his friends that took place on Halloween."

"What do you mean?"

"I've been told that Mr. Potter behaved cruelly towards you."

Hermione immediately put the Headmaster right. "He didn't, Sir."

"Then the account I've heard that he was rude to you, isn't true?"

"No, Sir."

"Was anybody rude to you that day?"

Hermione slowly nodded. "Yes, Sir, but I'd rather not say who it was."

"An admirable sentiment, Miss Granger, but I'm afraid that someone has accused Mr. Potter of doing so and if he has, this amounts to bullying, which is a serious offense that I need to get to the bottom of."

"But it wasn't Potter who was rude about me, it was somebody else. In fact, Potter helped to save me when I was in the toilets when the troll came in."

This caught Albus' attention. "How did he know you were there?"

"I was crying in the toilets when he came looking for me at lunchtime and tried to apologize…"

"Why would he do that if he hadn't done anything wrong?"

When Hermione didn't answer, Albus answered his question for her with another question. "Because he was with his friends when one of them was rude about you, wasn't he?"

"I…"

"Don't want to answer that, I understand," Albus said. "I'll therefore bring in both Mr. Longbottom and Mr. Weasley and punish them for what they did."

"It wasn't Neville," Hermione blurted out in a panic, not wanting Neville, the only one out of the trio who was actually nice to her, to get into trouble because of something Ron had done.

"Then I'll be speaking to Mr. Weasley, and don't worry, Miss Granger, our conversation will be a general one on the pitfalls of bullying and manners, your name won't come into the discussion."

"Thank you, Sir." Even as she thanked the Headmaster, Hermione suspected that Ron would nevertheless put two and two together and blame her.

"Now back to Mr. Potter. You say he tried to help you?"

"Yes, Headmaster," Hermione confirmed. "He went to Cedric and told him what had happened."

"Cedric Diggory?"

"Yes, he told the seventh year Hufflepuff prefects and they found Professor Sprout. She and Prefect Duke subdued the troll."

"I'm aware of what they did and they both received letters of commendation from the school," Albus told the young girl. "It looks as though I missed a few however." He leant forward. "Before I let you go, would you say that you're friends with Harry Potter?"

"No, Sir. When I tried to say thank you after the troll incident he told me he didn't even want me to know he'd helped, and…"

When Hermione's voice dropped away, Albus gave her a gentle prompt. "And…"

Hermione had a funny feeling that the Headmaster would find out if she didn't tell him, just as he'd found out about Ron and his cruel comments. "My parents sent Harry some sugar free sweets for Christmas to say thank you for his help. He told me that they shouldn't have bothered."

"And that upset you?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Quite understandable, Miss Granger, quite understandable." Albus stood up and walked around his desk, smiling as Hermione jumped to her feet. "I think that covers everything I need to talk to you about, and, as you might understand, I'd prefer it if you kept our conversation to yourself."

"I'd never tell anyone something that is private, Sir." Hermione was almost quivering with indignation that the Headmaster would think otherwise.

"I apologize for thinking that you might. You may return to the library, Miss Granger. Thank you for your time."

Albus then went on to question all of Harry's teachers, listening to their opinions of Harry and his friends. When the interviews were over, he had a fairly good idea of what everyone thought of the trio, Ron coming out the least favorably, although most teachers except for Severus liked both Harry and Neville. Albus decided to deal with Harry first.

* * *

Harry was as nervous as Hermione had been when she had been called to the Headmaster's office, although he too was intrigued by the portraits on the wall.

When Albus offered Harry a lemon sherbet, Harry accepted it, thinking that things couldn't be that bad if he was being offered sweets. He was about to discover that he was very wrong.

"Harry, I'm afraid you're here because I've received reports of bullying."

"Nobody's been bullying me, Sir."

"I meant of you bullying others."

"But I haven't, Sir, honest."

Albus was now fairly certain of that but he wanted to question Harry while the boy was off-kilter just to make sure that Hermione had been entirely truthful. "Then you weren't rude to Miss Granger on the morning of Halloween?"

"No, Sir!"

Albus could see that Harry was upset by the accusation. "Then why did you feel the need to apologize to her?"

"I felt bad that I hadn't done anything to stop it, Sir," Harry said truthfully, crunching down on the sweet that was now a nuisance as he tried to respond.

"And I understand you were rude about her parents' offering of thanks."

Harry knew without doubt that Hermione must have also been questioned by the Headmaster and, although he was rather annoyed at her for telling the Headmaster, he wasn't surprised she had. He _had_ been very rude to her. "I didn't deserve it."

"Why not, Harry? You helped to save a life."

"I just told Cedric Diggory where she was."

"Without that simple act, Miss Granger would likely have died, Harry. Please don't underestimate your part in the whole affair."

"No, Sir."

Albus suspected that despite his acceptance, Harry still didn't believe he deserved the sweets or the praise. "I'm afraid that while I'm satisfied you had no part in bullying Miss Granger, there are several more incidents I need to discuss, one involving your antics during your flying lesson."

Harry's heart began to beat faster at the stern look on Albus' face and he suddenly felt very frightened, more frightened than he had ever felt except when he'd caused his aunt's accident, and he was terrified he'd be expelled and sent home to Privet Drive.

Albus could see Harry was scared and so he quickly moved on. "Before we discuss that, let's deal with a matter I've been meaning to discuss with you for a while. I'm aware of your midnight expeditions that took place over Christmas, Harry, and while I'm willing to overlook them this time, please ensure that you don't repeat them."

"Yes, Sir." Harry said this hurriedly, hoping against hope that Albus' warning meant that he might not be going to expel him after all.

"Our next matter involves a disturbing account of you belittling Mr. Weasley and Mr. Longbottom."

This confused Harry totally. "Sir?"

"Did you tell both boys that you were better than them and that they were stupid?" Albus asked.

Harry's mind went blank for a moment until all of a sudden he remembered what Albus was talking about and he gave a relieved shout of laughter. "No, Sir."

"I don't see what's so funny, Harry."

"We were just messing around, Sir," Harry quickly said. "It was just a bit of fun."

"Calling your friends 'stupid' is fun?"

"No, Sir, but…" Harry stopped, floundering as he struggled to put into words what they'd been doing. "I don't know how to explain."

Harry then felt the same spidery web sensation he'd experienced when he'd been at the Leaky Cauldron and he shook his head.

"You were trying to deal with your fears by making fun about those who intimidate you?"

Although still disconcerted by the strange sensation, Harry nodded eagerly. "Yes, Sir."

"Might I suggest that you try a different approach next time?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Now we've solved that little conundrum, let's move on to our final matter, that of your incident during your flying lesson. I understand Professor McGonagall has suspended you from any future flying lessons."

Harry immediately began to defend himself. "Yes, Sir, but I wasn't showing off like she thought I was. The broomstick tried to buck me off and I was upside down and…"

"Slow down, Harry, I believe you," Albus said, suspecting that Harry was telling the truth, Mara Hooch having told him that the broomstick Harry had been riding on was rather volatile. "Tell me, did you enjoy the flying?"

Harry's face lit up. "Yes, Sir, I did."

"And will you be trying out for the quidditch team next year?"

Harry let out a sigh of relief as he realized that his fears about being expelled were now definitely just that, fears. "I don't know, Sir. I don't think Professor McGonagall likes me very much."

"I'm afraid that is my fault," Albus said, shouldering the blame. "I told her about your incident with your aunt when I was trying to convey what a difficult life you'd had so far and how far you'd gone to escape it. Unfortunately telling her had the opposite effect." He leant forward. "Harry, I owe you an apology and, because I'm well aware of how difficult things are for you because of my mistake, I'd like to offer you the chance to move houses."

"I don't want to move," Harry immediately said, fearful at the very idea.

"May I ask why?"

"Professor Snape doesn't like me either."

"You're afraid the Hat would re-sort you into Slytherin?"

"Yes, Sir, and it said that I wasn't clever enough for Ravenclaw."

"How about Hufflepuff?"

"Granger's friends with everyone there; I don't think they'd like me either."

"So you want to stay in Gryffindor?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Very well, Harry." Albus got up. "If you ever need to tell me anything or you just want to talk, please be aware that my door is always open to you. Just say your name and the gargoyle will give you entrance."

"Thank you, Sir."

"Before you go, as I told Miss Granger, who I believe you've worked out has already spoken to me, I would prefer for you to keep this discussion between us."

"Yes, Sir."

"Then run along, Harry."

* * *

Minerva settled herself in front of the fireplace, waiting to hear if her request had been approved.

It hadn't. "I've spoken to Harry and Miss Granger, Minerva, and I've made my decision as to your request that Harry be moved to another house."

"And…?"

"I'm denying it."

Minerva's lips pursed tightly. "You know how I feel about that boy, and…"

"And you're wrong about him, Minerva. Harry wasn't rude to Miss Granger, Mr. Weasley was. Harry even tried to apologize for what his friend had done."

"Even so, it doesn't excuse his behavior in belittling his supposed friends."

"They were merely facing their fears about the person who frightens them most by parodying them," Albus revealed, having skimmed the memory from Harry's mind. "You overheard Harry impersonating his cousin."

"It still isn't right and it most certainly doesn't excuse Potter's display during his flying lesson."

"He was simply enjoying himself."

"How would you know?"

"I spoke to Mara, who actually defended Harry and his account of how he ended up flying upside down on his broomstick."

"She's more interested in quidditch than what is right," Minerva said, still refusing to believe that Harry had not been showing off.

"I'd disagree."

"I'm not going to change my mind about allowing him to play."

"That is your privilege and, I believe, your mistake. And it is my privilege as Headmaster to be able to dictate certain punishments and make rules, as I'm about to do now. In future, Minerva, you will stop handing out Harry so many detentions and deducting points from him," Albus said in a voice that brooked no argument, having looked at the school records before speaking to Minerva. "If you have a problem with him, you will come to me and discuss it, and together we will agree on a suitable punishment. If you do not, then I will have no choice but to suspend you."

"As you wish."

Albus shook his head in dismay at the sour tone. "Minerva, I really don't understand your negative attitude towards Harry. You're usually so defensive of your Lions."

"He's not one of mine, not really," Minerva said, her lips going even tighter. "You heard what the Hat was about to say. He was supposed to be in Slytherin."

"I thought that of all the teachers here, you would have been one of the least prejudiced towards that house. You are, after all, friends with Severus."

"And he agrees with me on my opinion about that boy."

"You know as well as I that Severus only sees James Potter when he looks at Harry, something I'm surprised you don't."

"He's nothing like his father."

"I'd beg to differ but I've no doubt you'd only argue with me," Albus said in resignation. Aware he was not going to change Minerva's opinion about Harry, he moved on. "I'd also like to talk to you about Miss Granger while you're here."

Minerva's face changed immediately, brightening at the thought of her star pupil. "Yes?"

"I'm going to offer her a transfer."

Minerva's happy visage vanished as quickly as it come about. "But she's my best student."

"And she spends all of her time with the Hufflepuffs."

"I don't believe a move would be to her benefit."

"I do and that's why Miss Granger is on her way here now."

* * *

Harry threw the Book into his trunk after reading the newly altered chapter. Thanks to it, he was able to view exactly what Dumbledore and Granger had talked about and he felt guilty when he read that Granger had defended him, when he didn't really feel as though he deserved it.

What made it worse was Ron's delight the previous evening when it had been announced that Granger was transferring to Hufflepuff, something reflected in the Book. Ron had been to see the Headmaster just before the announcement and he blamed Granger for the dressing down that he'd received. Harry had wanted to yell at Ron, to tell him that Granger had tried to protect him despite what he'd done to her. But not wanting to explain how he knew, he said nothing. Instead he ignored his friend and after the announcement had been made, he had wished Hermione well, surprising both her and Ron.

Neville too had followed Harry's example and wished Hermione well, but they had been the only two in the house to do so, and Harry knew that despite her unpopularity with the rest of the House, McGonagall was unhappy with the girl's departure.

This too had been written down in the Book, as had Dumbledore's and McGonagall's discussion prior to the interview Dumbledore had held with Harry. Harry had known deep down that McGonagall didn't like him, but seeing it in black and white had hurt, particularly the fact that she had wanted him out of her house.

What also disturbed Harry was the fact that Dumbledore could obviously read his mind, although this time it had been to his advantage, given his own inability to put into words his intentions when he and his friends had been messing around. Nonetheless he still wished there was some way of preventing Dumbledore being able to access his thoughts whenever he chose.

After reading up to the very last word of the chapter that was there, Harry did as the Book said he would do and he closed it, lying back on his pillow, listening to the noises of his dorm mates getting up, something he was in no hurry to do, particularly as it was a Sunday and there was no need to get up early. He heard Ron's voice coming from the other side of his curtained off bed asking if he was awake. Harry ignored him as he was now very conflicted as to how he felt about Ron.

His talk with Dumbledore had made him see that Ron was a bully and not a very nice person, but he was also one of the few friends Harry had ever had and this made him want to cling to that friendship, probably even though he shouldn't have. And Harry was also scared that if he pulled away from Ron that Neville would desert Harry, as like most weak personalities, the boy tended to gravitate towards whoever might be able to protect him, a little like Harry himself.

However, Neville was going to change, although Harry had no idea about this change, the chapter foretelling it only appearing as Harry actually closed the Book.

Looking down at the Book, Harry began to think back over the time since he had received it and he realized that, after his talk with Dumbledore and discovering how McGonagall really felt about him, the Book had been more of a hindrance than a help. If he had ignored it, things might well have turned out differently.

However, despite the fact that Harry was quickly coming to the conclusion that the Book was more of a curse than a blessing he decided that he might give it one more shot, although he suspected he had already changed things so much that whatever was originally printed in the Book would no longer apply anyway.

Unfortunately schoolwork was to dominate his time and he had no time to read the Book at all, falling into bed late at night as he tried to keep up with the work the teachers seemed to be heaping upon them. He therefore had no idea that he was about to discover the answer to something he'd forgotten he'd even wondered about, and in doing so, he was also going to provide Neville with a boost he sorely needed.

* * *

Harry was in the common room when Neville fell into it, the victim of a leg-locker curse. "What happened?"

As George Weasley undid the spell, Neville explained that Malfoy had ambushed him outside of the library and Ron puffed out his chest and declared that it was time Neville stood up for himself.

Neville, however, shied away from such an idea, upset when he declared he wasn't brave enough to be in Gryffindor, something Malfoy had pointed out to him when using him for target practice.

Noticing how down Neville looked, Harry wondered what he could do to cheer him up. Then he remembered a chocolate frog that he had in his pocket, having exchanged a few of them for some of the sweets that Hermione had given him, Seamus interested in trying them out.

He also remembered what Dumbledore had said about trying out a different method for facing their fears, and he handed over his chocolate frog to Neville, saying, "You're worth twelve of Malfoy. The Sorting Hat chose you for Gryffindor, didn't it? And where's Malfoy? In stinking Slytherin."

This seemed to please Neville who smiled weakly, the smile vanishing as Percy Weasley, who disliked Harry as much as McGonagall did, remarked on Harry's comment.

"It tried to put you into stinking Slytherin too, didn't it, Potter?"

Harry was about to defend himself when Neville, who had been about to put the chocolate frog into his mouth, lowered it again, although he kept a firm grip on one of its legs. And even though his voice was shaky, it was his very step in defending a friend and himself.

"But it didn't because Harry didn't want to be a stinking Slytherin. He wanted to a Gryffindor like me, and like me, he's worth twelve of Malfoy."

George Weasley laughed. "You tell him, Neville."

Percy stuck his nose in the air and stormed off, not daring to take on his younger brother; that path would only lead to disaster.

Aware that everyone was now looking at him, Neville's courage deserted him and he decided to flee. "I'm going to bed," he said, before handing over the card from the chocolate frog box to Harry. "Here, you collect them, don't you?"

Harry took the card and noticed it was Dumbledore. He was about to shove it into his back pocket when he noticed the name of Dumbledore's partner.

"Thanks, Nev. I think I'm going to bed too."

"It's only eight o'clock," Ron protested.

"And I'm tired," Harry said, suddenly wanting to be alone in his bed. "Goodnight."

As he reached the dorm he discovered Neville wasn't getting changed but was sitting on his bed with a glum look on his face. "What's up?"

"Do you really think I'm worth twelve of Malfoy?"

"Yes."

"But I'm scared of him."

"And I'm scared of my aunt, even more scared than I am of my cousin," Harry shared. "And I know I'm worth twelve of her."

Neville smiled, feeling a little happier again. "Thanks, Harry."

"Anytime." Harry then got changed before he headed for his bed, closed his curtains and lay back to read the collector's card properly.

'_Professor Dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat of the dark wizard Grindelwald in 1945, for the discovery of the twelve uses of dragon's blood and his work on alchemy with his partner, Nicolas Flamel.'_

"Nicolas Flamel," Harry said out loud.

"What?"

"Nothing," Harry said as he decided to research the mysterious Nicolas Flamel. "Goodnight, Nev."

"Goodnight, Harry."


	12. The Fight

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter is the sole property of JK Rowling/OCs are all mine**

**Chapter 12: The Fight**

Harry was rather unhappy as a large book came crashing down on to his head as Ron pulled out the book next to it. "Watch what you're doing!"

"It barely touched you," Ron muttered as he climbed down the small ladder that had given him access to the top shelf of the bookcase that contained what he needed for his potions essay.

Harry knelt down to scoop up the book that, after bouncing off his head, had landed spine down and opened up. As he did, he barely stifled his gasp at the passage the book had fallen open at, a passage about Nicolas Flamel.

Ron, however, still heard him. "What now?"

Harry resorted to lying, his previous reticence about taking Ron into his confidence still very much in force. "Just a pain in my head." Harry picked up the book and noted the title before handing it over to Ron, who put it back on the bookshelf, in the wrong place of course.

Harry just had to know what was so special about Nicolas Flamel and so, in that moment, he decided he was going to come back alone to view the book. He knew though that to view it he was going to break his promise to Dumbledore that he wouldn't make trips around Hogwarts in his invisibility cloak but the need to know about Flamel was greater than Harry's desire to keep his promise.

* * *

Later that night, after checking his roommates were all sleeping, Harry slipped his invisibility cloak on and headed out of the Gryffindor common room.

He had barely moved down the first staircase when he spotted Dumbledore below him, and so he dashed back towards the painting of the Fat Lady, quietly hissing, "Evergreen."

His heart pounding, after tumbling back in through the entrance, Harry hurried back into the boys' dormitory and dove into his bed. After some time had passed and no Dumbledore had come banging on his door, a still trembling Harry decided to look in the Book, to see if, for once, it might actually be of some help to him.

It was. The new chapter that had appeared moments after closing the Book the last time he had read it was waiting for Harry, but he had no idea that he'd already changed it with his late night expedition. He felt rather triumphant when he read that he would try again the next night and succeed. His smile grew even larger as the Book told him what he would be reading about and Harry wondered if he even needed to bother looking in the Library at all. Deciding that he didn't, Harry got up, grabbed a quill and some parchment, and headed down into the Common Room.

Again, he had no idea that by getting up he was changing things yet again and that new words had appeared in the Book, words Harry had yet to read. If he had, he wouldn't have been so surprised when he was joined by one of his fellow Gryffindors. As it was, Harry was entirely focused on the information about Nicolas Flamel that was already begun to fade away.

Hurriedly scrawling down the information in a higgledy-piggledy fashion, Harry had just finished writing down what was written in the Book when a hand touched his shoulder, making Harry give a startled yell.

"Sorry."

"Neville, you scared me."

"What are you doing?"

Harry looked behind Neville. "Is Ron still in bed?"

"Yes, his snoring woke me up," Neville shared as he sat down on the plump Chesterfield sofa next to Harry. "Is that homework?"

"No, it's about someone called Nicolas Flamel."

"Isn't he Dumbledore's mate or something?"

"How do you know that?"

"Because it's on those chocolate frog cards you and Ron collect," Neville said, having seen lots of the one with Dumbledore on it. "So why are you writing about him?"

"I, um, I…" Harry struggled to make up a lie and decided to tell Neville the truth. "Do you remember the three headed dog we saw?"

"It's hard to forget it."

"Well, I think it has something to do with Nicolas Flamel."

"Why?"

"I'd show you but I can't," Harry said, shoving the Book at Neville. "This is about me but you'll only be able to see maths problems."

Although he thought Harry was acting rather strangely, Neville nevertheless took the Book and began to look at it. He then started reading from it.

"_Harry checked on his roommates to make sure that they were all still sleeping, before grabbing what he needed and heading downstairs into the Common Room…"_

"You can really see it?" Harry asked as he interrupted Neville's recitation.

"Of course I can. Is it a magical diary and that's why you said I shouldn't be able to see it?"

Harry was tempted to lie but in the end he didn't. "No, my school librarian in junior school gave it to me. It's all about me but it changes."

"What do you mean?"

"Keep reading."

Neville did so, his lips moving silently until he came across his own name and an explanation as to what was going on at that very moment. "Um, Harry, how can this be happening?"

"I don't know but things weren't supposed to be like this, at least I don't think they were."

"Huh?"

"Read it from the beginning but _don't_ let anyone else know you have it if you take it upstairs. I'll explain more afterwards."

Neville felt honored and also a little afraid as he decided he was most definitely going to read the Book. "I think I'll sit down here."

Harry headed back upstairs and collected his book bag and rejoined Neville, deciding to work on his potions homework as he knew he wouldn't be able to sleep.

He had barely gotten a quarter of the way through the assignment when Neville, who rather was a slow reader, interrupted him to exclaim, "You lived in a cupboard!"

"I told you my relatives hated me."

"But that's just horrible."

"It's better now I've got a bedroom." And so, at Neville's prompt, Harry related what had happened to him before telling him, "But you'll read about it in the Book."

Neville went back to reading, only to lift his head some time later and ask in an appalled voice, "_Sirius Black_ is your godfather?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah. You know about him?"

Neville looked around before nodding. "He was one of You-Know-Who's men. They caught him about the same time my parents were… they were hurt."

Harry knew that Neville lived with his grandmother. "Did they… die?"

Neville was silent for a long moment before shaking his head and saying, "Promise me you'll never tell anyone if I tell you?"

"I promise."

"They were tortured by Bellatrix Lestrange until they went, well, mad. She's Black's cousin."

"So is that why you know about him?"

"My gran said I should know what happened to my parents, about how brave they were, so she told me everything."

"And she told you about Black?"

"Yes. She said he was your dad's best friend but I didn't know he was your godfather."

Harry felt pole-axed. "And I knew he was my godfather but I didn't even think about him being friends with my dad."

Neville was fairly good at reading people and he could see how upset Harry was getting and so he decided to change the subject, not particularly wanting to dwell on it either. "Do you want to go to bed?"

"No," Harry said, sleep now the last thing on his mind. "But you can go if you want to."

"I'd like to keep reading if I can," Neville said, suddenly feeling shy about continuing his exploration into Harry's personal life.

"You can," Harry said, wondering what else Neville might be able to shed light on.

Neville's next comment was quidditch related. "You really would have made the team?"

"Yes, if the Book was right and it always is."

"I sometimes wish I could fly."

"I'll help you, or at least I would if I was allowed to fly."

"I don't think I want to learn."

"Think about it," Harry suggested.

Neville knew his own limitations but he nevertheless agreed to Harry's suggestion. "Okay." Then he ducked his head back down and continued reading the Book, his final outburst coming when he read about Dumbledore reading minds.

"He _read_ your mind?"

When Harry nodded as he rolled up his parchment now that his potions homework was complete, Neville relayed some information about his grandmother. "Gran loves him but I don't think she'd like this."

"You can't tell her!" Harry hurriedly said, not wanting Neville's grandmother to find out about the Book.

"Gran would probably tell Dumbledore if I did," Neville responded, telling his grandmother the last thing on his mind.

"And don't tell Ron."

This brought up something else. "Harry, do you really think we're only friends with him because we're weak?"

"Yes," Harry said quietly.

"And you really wanted to be my friend more than you wanted to be friends with Ron?" Even though it was written in black and white, Neville still needed almost as much reassurance as Harry.

"Yes."

This cheered Neville up immensely and he offered Harry the reassurance he craved. "I'll be your friend even if you're not friends with Ron."

Harry then felt rather horrid about what he'd said about Ron and so he backtracked a little. "It's not that I don't want to be his friend, it's just I think he can be a bit mean sometimes."

"You mean because of what he did to Granger?"

"Yeah, but I was horrible to her as well, and she ended up moving houses because of us."

"But at least you tried to help her," Neville pointed out. "And she's probably happier with the Hufflepuffs anyway."

As Harry nodded in agreement, the two boys fell silent, both of them contemplating the Book. It was Neville who spoke first.

"Harry, why do you think I can see the Book?"

Harry shrugged. "I dunno. Maybe it's because I wanted you to be able to see it."

"Should I carry on reading past where we are now?"

"I haven't read it yet but I can finish this while you do," Harry said as he opened up his Transfiguration homework, of which he had about a third left to complete.

Neville went back to his reading and his voice was trembling as he said, "I'm supposed to get into a fight with Malfoy and so is Ron at the next quidditch match."

"You don't have to," Harry said, looking up from reading what he'd just written about changing a matchstick into a chopstick. "The Book will change if you don't follow it."

"Then I don't want to," Neville decided before returning to the Book and gasping, "Harry, it's changed already. Only Ron gets into a fight now."

"Told you," Harry said, a little absently. His attention, however, was brought back full force a short time later with Neville's next comment.

"Um, Harry, you're supposed to fly over the Forbidden Forest."

"What?"

Neville handed over the Book and Harry quickly read to the end, muttering, "The Philosopher's Stone, got it. Fluffy? Hocus-Pocus?"

"What is it?"

"Apparently Quirrell is trying to stop Snape getting this Philosopher's Stone thing, which is what Flamel makes but Fluffy, whatever that is, is guarding it, and…"

"Harry, the three-headed dog! It has to be Fluffy."

"I didn't think of that. Then the Philosopher's Stone must be hidden under Fluffy."

"What's the Philosopher's Stone?"

Harry handed over his hurriedly scrawled upon parchment, something he was glad he had done, as he had noticed that his next evening's journey details had now totally vanished, just as Neville's fight with Malfoy had changed. "It's made by Nicolas Flamel, the wizard on Dumbledore's card."

"So why do you think he wants it?"

"Huh?"

"Snape. Why do you think he wants this Stone?"

"I don't know and I don't care. He already hates me enough without poking around in his business."

"Then we're not going to do anything?"

"Nope."

Neville too was afraid of Snape and more than happy to go along with Harry's refusal to act. "Okay."

When Neville yawned widely, Harry suggested they go back to bed. He was now also feeling tired and so the two boys headed back upstairs to their dormitory, both falling quickly asleep, but both had unanswered questions going over in their minds when they awoke.

One question that was going over in Neville's mind was 'what if I did join in the fight after all?'

The question was answered at the quidditch match when Ron still got into a fight with Malfoy and it was evident that Ron was going to get horribly beaten up if Neville didn't try to help him. So, because he could still remember the original outcome of the Book, Neville dove in.

Sighing, Harry did the same.

* * *

Minerva McGonagall tutted loudly as she surveyed the three battered and beaten young boys. "Fighting! I bet you were the ringleader, weren't you, Potter?"

In the middle of the group, Neville opened his mouth to protest, only for Ron to nudge him and for Neville to shut up.

Neville's mouth opening was a move McGonagall noticed, although she missed Ron's nudge, her eyes focused mostly on Harry. "Do you have something to say, Mr. Longbottom?"

Neville looked ready to cry but said nothing.

"Well, do you?"

"He doesn't," Ron said for him.

Harry had had enough of Ron's bullying, and although he knew it was wrong to tell tales, he was about to do so now. "He was going to tell you that it was Ron who started it."

McGonagall subsequently turned her attention on Ron. "Is this true, Mr. Weasley?"

"No, it was Harry," Ron lied, furious at Harry.

Poor Neville now became the center of attention again as McGonagall refocused her attention solely on him. "Who was it, Mr. Longbottom?"

Neville looked over at Ron, who was glaring furiously at him, and then at Harry, who had nothing but a kind smile on his face, and he decided that if he was brave enough to take on Malfoy, he was brave enough to take on Ron too. "It was Ron, Professor."

"Then why did you join in?"

"Because Malfoy and his friends would have beaten Ron to a pulp, if I hadn't."

"That's not true!" Ron cried out, not realizing he was about to confirm the truth of Neville's words. "I would have beaten…" His voice trailed away under the stern glare of McGonagall's steely eyes. He gulped.

"So you not only got involved in fighting, but you also lied about Mr. Potter's instigation of that fight."

His throat closing up with nerves, Ron could only nod.

McGonagall shook her head in dismay. "Twenty points from Gryffindor and detention with Professor Snape tonight."

She then turned her gaze on Harry. "I suppose you joined in for the same reason as Mr. Longbottom."

"No, Professor," Harry said, before saying something that he knew would most definitely sever his friendship with Ron, if he hadn't done so already. "I only did it to help Neville."

"Five points from Gryffindor and detention with Professor Snape tonight."

She promptly awarded the same punishment to Neville and then dismissed the three boys.

Ron turned on them the moment they were out of earshot. "You two are backstabbing gits!"

Fighting Malfoy and his friends and snitching on Ron had helped Harry's confidence no end and he went toe to toe with Ron. "What do you expect? You were going to let me take the blame!"

"That's what friends are supposed to do."

Although he had initially crumbled under McGonagall's terrifying stare, Neville decided he really had to try and keep standing up for himself. "No, they're not. I've have told the truth if I had been the one to jump in first."

"That would never have happened because you're too much of big fat crybaby!" Ron echoed hurtful words spoken by Slytherin's Pansy Parkinson during their first flying lesson, words that just made Neville want to stand up for himself even more.

"No, I'm not!"

"I saw you. You were going to cry like a little girl when McGonagall was having a go at you," Ron said nastily. "Big titty crybaby!"

"Leave him alone," Harry barked out, not about to stand by and let Ron denigrate his friend.

"Make me."

McGonagall walked around the corner just as Harry's fist connected with Ron's face. "Mr. Potter!"

As Harry turned to look at his professor, Ron decided to get a punch back in, catching Harry's left eye as he turned.

McGonagall was furious. "You will stop this at once!"

Ron did so but Neville was horrified to see that Ron had shattered one side of Harry's glasses and that Harry was clutching his eye with blood was running down his face. "Professor, Harry's hurt."

McGonagall rushed over and removed Harry's hand, wincing as she saw a fairly large shard of glass protruding from Harry's eye as well as smaller pieces embedded in his skin. "Let's get you to Madam Pomfrey. You two will come with us. I want an explanation of what went on and I want the truth!"

Madam Pomfrey came waddling over as the group entered the ward. "What's going on?"

"Glass in his eye."

"Oh dear." Madam Pomfrey led Harry away.

"Will he be able to see?" Neville asked worriedly.

"Of course he will," McGonagall said, although she found herself a little worried about Harry for the first time ever. "Now, I want an explanation."

Ron knew that Neville would probably snitch on him if he didn't come clean and so he told the truth, at the end of which Neville confirmed it was correct.

Ron ended up with another detention, as would Harry.

Harry, however, had bigger concerns than detention… he had just heard Madam Pomfrey talking to a healer at St. Mungo's and it was uncertain if she could save his eye.


	13. Neville's Discovery

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter is the sole property of JK Rowling but OCs are mine.**

**Chapter 13: Neville's Discovery**

Harry thanked Neville for bringing his homework. "I don't really see why I need to be in here."

"Madam Pomfrey said it'd be even worse for you if anyone knocked you and caught your eye while it's still healing," Neville said, repeating what Madam Pomfrey had already told Harry.

"Yeah, but it's still going to take weeks for it to heal properly," Harry grumbled. "You'd think with magic it'd be different."

"But without magic you'd have lost it totally."

"I know but it's really annoying."

"At least your detention was with Madam Pomfrey instead of Professor Snape," Neville said, holding up his sore hands. "My fingers were bleeding by the time I'd finished scrubbing out Slytherin's cauldrons."

Because of his injury, Harry's detention had been transferred from Snape and he'd ended up helping Madam Pomfrey wrap bandages by hand. "Sorry."

"Nah, it's not your fault."

When Neville fell silent, Harry brought up something that had been worrying him. "Did you hide the Book?"

"Yeah," Neville said, before confessing to one of his usual clumsy habits. "But I dropped it when I was trying to put it in that spot behind my bed head; that's when I noticed a new chapter." After looking around him, he moved closer to Harry. "I, uh, read it."

"I said you could," Harry reminded Neville. "What did it say?"

"That Granger nags you about studying for the exams."

"Anything that's not boring?"

As he broke into a huge grin, Neville's head nodded excitedly. "Yeah, that the bloke who met us at the train station, Hagrid, is going to hatch a baby dragon." Neville's excitement vanished as he sank back into his seat. "And I think you're supposed to be friends with him, Granger and Weasley."

"Neville, you're my friend, not them," Harry said unable to miss the change in Neville's demeanor and guess the reason behind it. "What else did it say?"

"That you all try to help him by writing to Weasley's brother who works with dragons. But after he's collected the dragon from the North Tower you forget your invisibility cloak and get caught by Filch."

"Never gonna happen. Anything else?"

"Oh yeah, something about Quirrell not cracking yet."

"Nothing about Snape?"

"Not really," Neville said, before bringing the dragon problem back up. "What are we going to do about Hagrid?"

"Why do anything?"

"Because dragons aren't allowed, and he's got a wooden hut."

"I don't see what that has to do with us," Harry said, touching his eye patch. "Perhaps when he sets fire to his hut, Hagrid will change his mind about the dragon."

Neville wasn't quite so sure and he didn't want Hagrid getting into trouble, but nevertheless he still found himself agreeing with Harry, "I suppose."

"Look, keep an eye on the Book," Harry decided, seeing that doing nothing was making his friend uncomfortable. "If anything seems different, write it down. If I don't help then it might change."

* * *

May was barely a day old when Neville came tearing into the infirmary, almost knocking over Madam Pomfrey. "Sorry." He then walked sedately up to Harry's desk. "How are you doing?"

Harry touched his eye patch, which he'd shed a few days earlier and now frustratingly had to wear again. "Slipping over and banging my head has put me back weeks or even months. Madam Pomfrey said she doesn't think she's going to release me for another fortnight, not if I don't want to lose my sight permanently. She doesn't want me getting jarred or slipping over on water again."

"I bet Weasley did it on purpose," Neville said, casting his mind back to the puddle of water that Harry had slipped on in their bedroom, water that Ron had dripped in from the showers.

"He's been dripping water everywhere since day one," Harry reminded Neville, before trying to take his mind of his injury. "So what's the rush?"

"The Book changed," Neville said, tugging it out of his bag and handing it over. "Hagrid's going to die in a fire."

His stomach lurching, Harry took the Book from Neville. "But I can't leave the hospital wing."

"And we can't let him die."

Both boys became quiet as they tried to figure out what to do next. It was Harry who came up with the only solution he could think of.

"Nev, you need to go to McGonagall. She has to know."

Neville shook his head. "I can't. She's too scary."

Harry had to agree to the teacher's fierceness. "What about Flitwick?"

"I don't know." Neville didn't like the idea of trying to explain about Hagrid and how Neville could possibly know about the dragon's egg to any of his professors. After explaining this to Harry, Harry came up with another idea.

"Then write it down but don't sign your name. Then shove it under McGonagall's door."

"Brilliant!" Neville said, leaping on the idea.

* * *

Two days after his discussion with Harry, Neville was called to see his head of house.

"Mr. Longbottom," his teacher said, holding out a piece of parchment, "did you really think I wouldn't recognize your handwriting?"

Neville gulped as he looked at the parchment he'd slipped under the Transfiguration teacher's door. Both he and Harry had completely forgotten that the teacher would recognize his writing, and neither of them had bothered to consult the Book, something he wished he'd done now. "I, um, I, uh…"

McGonagall broke in. "Accusing Hagrid of something like this is a very serious allegation. What proof do you have, Mr. Longbottom?"

Neville's ingenuity to think on his feet was about to be put to the test. "I saw something that looked like a dragon's egg on his table when he opened his door."

"What were you doing down by Hagrid's hut?"

Neville blurted out the first thing that came to mind. "Picking flowers."

Well aware that Neville loved herbology, the flower picking statement didn't ring any alarm bells but the knowledge of the egg did. "How would you even know it was a dragon's egg?"

Neville froze for a moment until the obvious and only answer he could come up with was hurriedly offered up. "Weasley had a book when we were still friends. I saw some pictures in there and the egg sort of looked something like one I saw in there."

Aware that Charlie Weasley worked with dragons, McGonagall accepted this explanation, although still not quite believing Neville, she gave Neville a warning. "If I discover that you're simply making mischief, Mr. Longbottom, you _will_ regret it."

"I'm not, Professor," Neville said earnestly, his face full of truth. "I'm just afraid that Hagrid will set fire to his hut."

"Very well, wait here."

It was a long and terrifying hour for Neville as he waited for McGonagall's return. He stood up on shaking legs when she stepped into her office.

"You were correct in your assumptions, Mr. Longbottom."

Neville's legs gave way under him as relief flooded through him.

Despite her severe demeanor, McGonagall was concerned at how pale Neville had gone. "I think I should take to you to see Madam Pomfrey."

Still shaking, Neville let his teacher take him to the hospital wing where he was checked over and told to sit down for a while.

Poppy walked Minerva to the door. "He'll be fine. He's just a little shook up."

"Then I'll leave him in your capable hands."

When everyone had moved away, Harry walked over to where Neville was sitting, clutching a hot chocolate. "You don't look so good."

"I thought… I thought…" Neville started to cry.

"Nev?"

Neville took several intakes of air as he tried to regain his composure. "McGonagall recognized my writing and called me into her office. She went to look for the egg but I was so scared that she'd find nothing and I'd get kicked out of school. Gran would kill me if that happened."

"I'm really sorry," Harry said, feeling guilty for asking Neville to send the note. He then checked around as he always did before he mentioned the Book. "There was another chapter last night, a really scary chapter."

"Can I see?"

Harry pulled out the disguised Book from his bag and handed it over.

"Um, Harry, it must have changed. It's talking about herbology."

"I wrote most of the chapter down in case it changed," Harry said, tugging out a sheaf of parchment. "Here."

Neville began to read Harry's notes. "I tried to warn you that McGonagall was on the prowl the night you got the dragon to safety?"

"Yep," Harry said, guessing that this was making Neville feel better and he was glad that he'd left the bit out from the Book that called Neville 'blundering'. Even so, Harry doubted that what was to come would have the same cheery effect.

Neville gulped as he read the notes. "Snape's gonna get the Stone?"

"I said it was scary, but that's not the worst."

Neville read, his earlier paleness returning. "You were supposed to face _him_?

Harry nodded vigorously. "Yeah, it really scared me."

"And I thought McGonagall was scary…"

"She is," Harry agreed, still thinking that. "Now you've read my notes, let's see exactly what this new chapter says."

"It's mostly about schoolwork and Quirrell getting paler," Neville said, scanning the chapter with Harry. "So what do we do?"

"We follow the Book," Harry said, before spotting Neville's look of alarm. "I mean the new chapter, not the one about me going into the Forest and facing _him_."

"Okay, let's do that then," a relieved Neville said.

* * *

Time went by quickly and before they knew what had happened, Harry had once again rejoined his fellow classmates, where Ron ignored both him and Neville. Then almost as suddenly, exams were upon them, and in a panic to revise, the Book, which Harry had been checking up until the first exam, was forgotten about.

It was only after the nightmarish time was over that Harry and Neville finally remembered about the Book and pulled it out of its hiding place behind Neville's bed head.

Harry began reading about his book self asking Hagrid about how he'd acquired the egg and the conclusion. "Oh God! Snape's going for the Stone."

Neville's voice was filled with as much horror as Harry's was. "And McGonagall won't help us. Look she said so here: _"I don't know how you found out about the Stone, but rest assured, no one can possibly steal it, it's too well protected."_ Harry, she hates us and she's not going to believe us. Even less than this Book McGonagall would."

"So what do we do?" Harry asked in alarm, realizing that Neville was correct.

Neville came up with the only solution possible. "We carry on reading."

As he did, he grew paler and paler as he read what Book Harry intended to do. "Harry, please tell me you're not going after that Stone."

Harry re-read the passage where his Book self declared that he'd never go over to the Dark Side and, just like his counterpart, Harry knew he had to face Voldemort. "I think I have to do it, Nev. If I don't, then can you imagine what might happen?"

"You might still be alive!"

"Keep reading, I need to know what to do."

Both boys hurriedly continued with their reading, Neville frowning. "I'm supposed to try and stop you, Granger and Weasley going, Harry."

"No, you're not," Harry said in a strong voice. "That's what Book Neville thought. He thought he was doing the right by trying to stop them going after the Stone but you know it's the wrong thing to do."

"I know." Neville then went quiet as he returned to the latest chapter, stopping when he noticed a problem. "Harry, I didn't know you had a flute."

"I don't," Harry said, scratching his head as he thought about his alternate choices. "I suppose I could always hum a tune."

Neville gave Harry a look filled with skepticism. "Harry, you sound like a banshee!"

"Then you can hum a tune!"

"Me?"

"I don't need you to go with me, at least through the trapdoor," Harry quickly said, thinking that this was the reason behind Neville's evident worry. "But I need you to put Fluffy to sleep so I can get in."

"You think I'm a coward."

"No, Nev, I don't. I don't want you to get hurt."

Neville set his shoulders. "If you go, I go."

Harry smiled at his best friend. "See, it's true: you are worth twelve of Malfoy."

Bolstered, Neville returned his attention to the Book, following the Book's versions of Harry, Hermione and Ron as they jumped into the trapdoor and the unknown. His eyes lit up as he recognized the description of the plant the trio landed on.

"It's Devil's Snare, Harry."

This was confirmed by Book Hermione, who shortly thereafter provided the correct treatment of it. However, Hermione's inclusion in the chapter brought up questions for Neville.

"Harry, you're not her friend. Why would she even be there?"

"Because I think I was supposed to be her friend but something didn't happen that should have," Harry theorized. "And I'd never ask her to come with us."

"And why hasn't the Book changed like it did when I first…" Neville's voice trailed away. "It's me telling you about the Devil's Snare now."

"Then I think you're coming with me."

"So why is Weasley still here?"

Harry shrugged. "Perhaps he _has_ to come with us. We were his friend."

"But you hate him."

"Then he doesn't come," Harry declared, before reluctantly saying, "But what if he's supposed to? You replaced Granger to help us with the Devil's Snare but who's going to replace Weasley if we need him to get past whatever's in place guarding the Stone?"

Both boys gasped as most of the words faded away entirely, before being replaced with the conversation they were now having.

"Harry, why isn't it telling us about the trapdoor now?"

Harry thought over all the times the Book had changed and came to a conclusion. "I think it's because I can't decide whether to take Weasley with us or not. The Book must do whatever I think and then go from there."

Neville nudged Harry as words reappeared. "Look."

Harry read out the new insertion.

'_Harry noticed that Ron's bed curtains were tightly closed, and he quickly hurried over to the other side of the room, shaking Neville awake._

"_We have to go."'_

Neville made a pertinent observation. "You must have decided not to take Weasley."

"Yeah," Harry agreed, before going back to reading.

'_Harry waited while Neville slipped on his shoes, and then both boys headed down the stairs and into the common room. As they left the common room, they had no idea that someone else was thinking about whether or not to confront them when they arrived at Fluffy's hide-out.'_

"That's it?" Neville squeaked as Harry turned to the page to discover it was blank.

"It just ends." Harry turned the page back and forth several times but nothing else appeared.

"But how can it do that?"

"Perhaps it's because the person doesn't make a choice until the very last moment and the Book knows that."

"Do you think it's Weasley?"

Harry shrugged. "I don't know who else it could be, but I don't think we'll know for sure until we get there."

"Then we have to take the Book with us."

"It's massive," Harry protested.

"But it's the only thing that might save us," Neville argued.

Harry looked down at the Book. "Okay." He then looked at Neville. "You're sure you want to do this?"

"I am."

"Then we go down the trapdoor tonight!"


End file.
